Only if I
by joliesse43
Summary: My version of Booth and Brennans' tensions after Sully leaves. Their problems won’t be solved by counseling, but perhaps sex.…. Now includes a case! And Booth and Bones in danger! FINAL UPDATE
1. Chapter 1

Only if I

My version of Booth and Brennans' tensions after Sully leaves. Their problems won't be solved by counseling, but perhaps sex.…. Written after 'Bride' but before 'Churchyard'

--

So I took today off work, a glorious and rare midweek day off, paid vacation and all. Figured maybe do a bit of laundry, clean up the house. But what happens? I end up writing a Bones fic instead. I've tried not to be obsessed with this show, but … I'm not planning this to be a super long fic or anything. I just couldn't resist.

--

"Are we almost done?" the small woman asked, checking her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Almost, Mrs. Morgan. We do have a few more questions about the death of your husband," Booth said bluntly, annoyed that she was suddenly inattentive to their questioning. The woman made a wounded noise at his words and he immediately felt bad. She was young, not even thirty, and she had lost her husband. "Sorry," he muttered. Sneaking a quick peak at his partner, he tried to catch her eye, but she didn't look at him. Booth sighed. Something was definitely out of sync between the two of them. Usually by the time they were at this stage of a case, so close to the end, they were completely attuned to one another. Not lately.

"Is there somewhere to you have to be?" Brennan asked gesturing to the woman's watch.

She didn't answer at first, but turned to look in the direction of her tv.

"A tv show?" Brennan asked incredulously. "You think a tv show is more important than talking to the FBI?"

"It's this show, John Edwards, _Crossing Over_," the woman said while looking down at her hands. "I just started watching it after Ted went missing."

"That's ok, Becky," Booth said. "We won't take up too much more time. You won't miss much." Becky smiled at him gratefully.

"Wait," Brennan interrupted. "What show?"

Sighing, Booth explained. "It's this show where the guy … communicates with, um, the deceased." He rushed the last part in a vain attempt to run it by his partner without comment.

Becky spoke first, saying quietly. "I've become a bit obsessed with it." Swallowing hard, she fought to keep her emotions in check. "I know it's stupid, but sometimes I think maybe I could talk to-" She stopped, unable to voice her grief.

"I know. It's ok," Booth said soothingly as he watched a tears fall from her eyes. It was obvious the woman was in distress. Well, obvious to almost everyone.

"So there is a program on the tv," Brennan said pointing towards the offending device, "in which the host purports to 'communicate with the deceased'?" Booth didn't like her tone and he moved to cut her off, taking a step closer to Brennan and grabbing her arm.

"Yes, family members of people in the audience," Becky explained, slightly embarrassed, but obviously quite familiar with the premise.

"Bones," Booth whispered warningly, but she ignored him, focused on the woman before them instead.

"And you actually think that this man will allow you to speak with your dead husband?" Brennan asked in obvious disbelief. Becky stared back at them, but didn't say anything.

"Bones!" Booth whispered again, more insistent this time, applying light pressure to her arm. Shrugging out of his grasp, Brennan shot him an annoyed look before continuing.

"You went to college, Brown if I remember correctly. How could you possibly believe that? It's not rational," Brennan said, her voice getting louder.

Fresh tears welled up in Becky's eyes. Abandoning Brennan's side, Booth said, "I'm sorry. We just have a few more questions. About your husband, not anything television related," He added, giving Brennan a meaningful and hopefully understood glance.

"I don't know," Becky said tearfully, "I think I'm done for now."

"Listen, I'm sorry if Dr. Brennan offended you," Booth apologized in his most soothing voice. He knew that they were going to need her testimony in court and the last thing he wanted to do was piss her off.

"What?" Brennan asked. "How have I offended -"

"I think you should leave now," Becky said her voice stronger than it had been all night.

"Right," Booth said in defeat. "Again, we're very sorry for your loss," he added, placing extra emphasis on 'we.'

"Come on, Bones," Booth said putting his arm around her shoulders and escorting her out of the house before she could say anything else.

--

When they opened the door to her house, a steady rain greeted them. The storm, which had been threatening all day, had finally broke. Booth remotely unlocked the doors to the SUV and they both ran for cover.

"God Dammit Bones!" Booth shouted the moment the door of the SUV slammed behind him.

"What?" she asked eyeing her partner cautiously. She shook her hair and beads of water sprinkled the interior of the car.

Booth wiped the rain from his face and quickly drove out of the parking lot. He was so angry he was having trouble forming articulate thoughts. He wondered if she seriously didn't know what she had done. "What? You insulted and attacked that woman until she asked us to leave."

"That is not why she wanted us to leave." Brennan argued. She couldn't believe that he was trying to blame this on her. She had merely been trying to understand this tv show and why a well educated woman would watch and believe in it.

"Well, she was cooperating just fine until you called her an idiot," Booth said feeling his patience with his partner begin to wane.

"I did not call her an idiot!" she practically shouted in reply.

Booth gripped the steering wheel tightly and took several deep breaths to calm himself. When she got this way she was impossible to deal with and she had been like this a lot lately.

"You're better than this, Bones," he said finally.

"So you're saying I'm not good enough?" she asked, anger only slightly masking the hurt in her voice. The hurt didn't go unnoticed by Booth. Furious as he was right now he still hated seeing her upset.

Booth took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Ok, Bones. Mrs. Morgan is probably going to be one of our key witness. You were mean and you made her cry. We are going to go back over there tomorrow morning and make everything right."

"I am not apologizing," She replied reflexively.

Choosing to let the subject drop for now, Booth said. "And you are staying in whatever crappy little place I have to stay at." She stiffened at his statement. "Especially since it's your fault," Booth added under his breath.

Silence fell and the darkness covered them; they stared out the window watching the lights of roadside businesses pass by.

--

Booth pulled off the road after about ten minutes of driving and up to a hotel called the Vacation Inn. It was what he was used to; his paltry FBI per diem didn't leave many appealing options. Of course, the Vacation Inn was probably below the standards of his wealthier partner. Well, that was too bad, he thought and he didn't wait for her approval before he jumped out of the car and headed towards the front desk. She quickly undid her seat belt and hurried after him. She hated it when he did that; marched off without her so she had to run to keep up with him. Like some child or sidekick. It was obvious he was angry with her. He never hid it well, the clenched jaw, the erect posture, the tone in which he said, "Bones."

They didn't speak until they were standing outside of their respective rooms. For now, the rain had subsided leaving the night cold and soggy. The overnight stay in Maryland hadn't been planned, but both had long ago packed an emergency overnight kit into the SUV. Brennan couldn't remember what was in hers, so its contents would be a surprise. She knew that they weren't done discussing the case or their interview with Becky Morgan. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Brennan stared out into the night. Things weren't usually so tense between the two of them. But the discord between them was palpable and she wasn't sure how to remedy that.

"See you," Booth mumbled as he unlocked the hotel room door next to hers. He disappeared inside, holding her gaze with his dark eyes for several seconds before closing the door. A shiver ran through her, but she wasn't sure if it was from the damp cold or from his look.

After a long, hot shower, Brennan felt much better. Well, she felt much warmer anyway. The situation with Booth bothered her. Maybe more than it should. Over and over she had analyzed the conversation with Becky Morgan in her mind and it didn't seem so bad. Someone was overreacting, but she wasn't sure if it was Becky, Booth, or her. Lately, there seemed to be so much she wasn't sure about. One thing she was sure about was that she needed to talk to Booth. To plan their strategy for tomorrow if nothing else.

Picking up her room key, she headed for the door, but stopped to look at her reflection in the mirror on the way out. Her emergency bag had consisted of mainly casual clothes. She was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a light jacket. She combed her hair with her fingers, trying to get it to lay right before she stopped herself. There was no need to worry about her appearance. She was only going to see Booth. And only about business. As she turned away from the mirror, the adjoining door caught her eye. She opened her side and knocked tentatively on his.

After a wait long enough that she was just about to turn around, Booth finally opened his side. He was wearing the same suit pants as early but had stripped down to only a tank top, a towel tossed carelessly over his shoulder and a toothbrush propped in his mouth. She could hear the shower running behind him and couldn't help appreciate the muscles the tank top revealed. For just a moment, she forgot why she was there.

"I was just about to get in the shower," Booth said, stepping aside so she could enter the room.

Hesitating at the door, she said, "I'm sorry, I'll go." Booth shook his head and gestured for her to enter. He went into the bathroom and turned off the shower. When he emerged, the towel and toothbrush were gone.

"Are you sure you don't want to shower first?" Brennan said. "We can talk later and the shower was really nice." Booth watched her, noticing her wet hair and how her damp t-shirt clung seductively to her body in several places.

He cleared his throat and said, "It's ok. You want to sit?" he asked motioning to the only chair in the room.

"No, I'm fine," Brennan answered. Following Booth's gaze, she realized that she was fidgeting with her room key. She set it down on the dresser and put her hands in her pockets. "So, we should probably talk about tomorrow," she said.

"You are going to apologize to Becky and we are going to finish asking her about Ted," Booth replied firmly.

"I already told you, I'm not apologizing," Brennan said as her anger returned. "I was merely trying to do my job and to understand."

"Oh come on, Bones!" Booth replied in frustration. "You attacked the woman until she cried and threw us out of her house. She wasn't some serial killer or annoying bureaucrat. Becky was a woman who had just lost her husband. She hadn't done anything wrong and she was telling us everything we wanted to know."

"Booth, I didn't do anything different today than I do any other day," she said coldly. "By know I'm sure you know how I behave in interrogations."

"Yea, I do, Bones, but this lady was an innocent victim. I thought you might have a little sensitivity and empathy. Clearly, I was wrong."

"I have never been under the delusion that my mother would try to speak to me through a television," she volleyed back.

Booth threw up his hands. "What the hell, Bones? You've been bitchy for weeks. You're upset about Sully leaving. I get it. You want to take it out on me, fine, but you damn well better drop the attitude when we are dealing with grieving widows who are future witnesses for the prosecution!"

Brennan was taken aback by Booth's charge. She took several steps towards him and said, "I have not been a bitch."

"Yes. You. Have." Booth insisted. He moved closer until she finally took a step back. "Ever since Sully left. I'm sorry you didn't go, Bones." Booth continued his advance while she slowly backed up. "I'm sorry that you could be on a beach right now instead of stuck here with me."

Brennan felt the wall behind her and she leaned gratefully against it. Booth intensity was almost frightening. Almost. She tried to match it. "If I wanted to be on a on a beach right now with Sully Booth, I would be."

He put a hand on the wall above her head and moved in, asking quietly, "Then why aren't you?"

Brennan shivered in spite of herself. "I told you. I stayed because of work."

"So it had nothing to do with me?" Booth asked.

"Obviously you are a part of my work," she replied.

"I'm not talking about work," He said huskily.

He was so close that she could feel the warmth from his body. Without thinking, she slowly extended her hand and placed it on his waist, spreading her fingers out to feel him underneath the fabric of his tank top. Unsure if she wanted to push him away or bring him closer.

"Well, what about you?" she asked. "You've been sarcastic and moody lately."

"You almost ran off with another man." Booth said, tracing his fingers down her cheek.

"And you don't want that?" she breathed.

In answer, Booth slid the hand that was still propped against the wall down until it was even with her head. With his other hand, he gently took hold of her face and slowly moved in to kiss her. Her hair was still wet from her shower as his hand moved around the back of her neck, pulling her even closer to him.

Brennan responded by putting both hands around his waist. Some part of her knew she shouldn't enjoy this embrace, but she couldn't help it, the feeling was too overwhelming. Finally, they broke apart; Brennan wrapped her arms around herself, trying to get control. She was tempted to kiss him again and she knew that even the slightest movement would initiate things. Things that she had barely imagined. But she stayed frozen.

They stared at each other, standing so close, but not quite touching, until Booth put a hand on her arm. "Bones," he began tenderly, but realized he wasn't sure what else to say. She nodded and gave his hand a quick squeeze with hers, leaving her hand there a little longer than she meant to.

"I guess, I'll uh … see you in the morning," Brennan said awkwardly. She stepped away from him and towards the adjoining door.

He followed her, holding the door behind her as she entered her room. She didn't seem upset, but Booth wasn't sure how to read her actions. She hadn't karate chopped him, so that was a good thing. She was leaving though, so that wasn't great.

"Bones," he called before he knew what he was actually going to say. "Um," he faltered as she turned her clear blue eyes on him. "There's a little place across the parking lot. We could get something to drink and eat there." Booth paused, but she didn't speak so he continued, "Will you meet me there in an hour?"

Brennan considered his question in silence. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her lips were still warm from his kiss. "Maybe," was all she could manage before she shut the door to his room.

--

Well I'm gonna leave it there cause I really should accomplish something, like clothes to wear to work tomorrow. Plus, all my Bones fics have had sex in the first chapter, so this time I'm gonna get crazy and leave it till chapter two.

I'd love to know what you think


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sorry this took so long to post, I usually try to a chapter up at least once a week. I had it ready last night, but it needed another edit and between Bones and Friday Night Lights, I was busy. Oh and how cute was the singing at the end of last nights ep? Sigh.

Thanks for the reviews. You all are great!

--

Booth groaned as the door closed behind her, standing motionless for several seconds before pulling himself out of the trance, unable to believe what had just happened. He wasn't even sure how they had gotten to that point. Kissing as he pressed her back against the wall. There were certainly times that he thought that was possible, but not after the way they had been fighting all day. What he'd said about her not leaving … well, he never thought he would actually say it out loud. And he probably wouldn't have if he hadn't been so angry, but maybe it was good that it was finally out there.

Booth rubbed his eyes wearily and prayed that he hadn't just screwed up. It was seeing her with Sully that had finally forced him to acknowledge his feelings about her, at least to himself. Every time he had seen them kissing it had felt like a knife to the gut. He wanted to shout, "She's mine. I should be kissing her. I should be the one asking her to run away!" But he didn't. He repressed his frustration and longing, expressing it in ways that Gordon Gordon didn't always find appropriate.

Thinking back over their relationship, he wasn't totally surprised that their first kiss was born out of a heated argument. He'd never known anyone like her before. People said that all the time, it was usually a throwaway line, but for Booth it held real truth. She challenged him, supported him, annoyed him, often angered him, and totally turned him on.

When he thought about her views on relationship, marriage, children, and religion, it seemed impossible that they could actually make a relationship work. But when they were together it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He had already decided that he would be willing to sacrifice some things for a life with her. She was worth it. Finally, he stopped pacing and decided he had better shower. He had a feeling tonight was going to be important and he might as well make sure he looked good.

Freshly groomed, Booth stared at his watch in disbelief. How could only twenty minutes have passed since they kissed? Why had he said they should meet in an hour? A half hour would have been plenty of time. There was no way he was going to stay in this room for the remaining time, with only his thoughts and a crappy tv for company. Figuring he might as well leave for the bar early, he pulled on his coat and headed out the door.

Bob's was a small, dimly lit wooden building with the words bar and grill underneath an illuminated cowboy hat. Perfect, a county bar Booth thought rather disillusioned. He could listen to almost all popular music, but he couldn't stand country. Too much whining, too much twang. The place was half-empty, only a handful of the tables occupied along with several people sitting interspersed at the bar. Booth figured they didn't get much of a crowd on a Wednesday night. Glancing around at the dreary interior, he doubted they ever got much of a crowd anymore.

Pulling up a stool, Booth sat at the bar. Still thirty minutes to go. He'd picked a place with an unobstructed view of the front door, wanting to make sure he wouldn't miss her. A female bartender that Booth guessed to be in her early 50's approached him.

"What can I get ya?" she asked, giving him a big smile. He hesitated for a second before ordering a beer. He definitely didn't want to drink too much and say something stupid. On the other hand, perhaps a beer or two would relax him. The knot in his stomach was growing tighter as the minutes slowly ticked by. God, he hadn't felt this way since his first high school girlfriend.

"You look a little nervous sugar," the woman said as she placed the beer before him. Booth was about to ask her how she could tell when he realized he had been drumming his fingers on the bar incessantly.

"Um, yeah, I guess," Booth said.

"Anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"No, I'm just waiting for someone."

"Don't worry. I'm sure she's coming," the bartender said before she walked off to serve another customer.

Booth looked at his watch again. Twenty minutes. Damn! He didn't know what he was going to say to Bones. He had tried preparing a little speech in the shower, but it felt forced. He knew how he felt about her and he hoped that would be enough. As for how she felt about him, he wasn't sure. Bones kept so many of her feelings hidden deep below the surface. During the last year and a half, he had gotten better at discovering those feelings. Either that or she had gotten better at sharing them. He really hoped that trend continued.

Maybe he wouldn't have to say anything at all. Maybe she would walk in and kiss him. They would dance to a few slow, sad country songs then head back to the motel …. Booth allowed himself the brief fantasy, catching the grin before it flashed across his face. Right. He'd be lucky if she didn't walk in here and dump him on his ass.

"You want another one?" the bartender asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"No thank you, uh- "

"Rose."

"She's late?" Rose guessed.

"No. I was early," Booth corrected automatically.

She leaned up against the bar, lighting a cigarette as she glanced around conspiratorially. Apparently, anti-smoking legislation hadn't reached rural Pennsylvania. "They say I'm not supposed to smoke when I'm working. All my customers can smoke, but not me. Don't seem logical." Booth smiled at her use of the word 'logical.'

"So, is she worth it?" she asked in a voice made gravely by years of smoking.

Booth just smiled. He wasn't going to entertain this woman with his messy love life. Rose paid him no mind and said, "Cause it seems like she's driving you crazy."

"Yeah," Booth said with a chuckle, "she drives me crazy alright."

"In which way?" she asked.

"Every way," he answered before he thought better of it.

"Well, as long as that includes the good way," she said with a wink and a laugh.

"Look, she should be here soon, so thanks for the talk," Booth said, not wanting to encourage her any further. He was good at reading people and he could tell when others were too. Years spent studying people from behind a bar had probably given her the advantage in this situation, even over a profession such as himself.

"Good luck, sugar," Rose said before walking away.

Booth settled back in and resumed the wait. It wouldn't be long now. As the nerves began to creep back in, he tried to reassure himself that he had nothing to worry about. But as the minutes crept past the hour, he wasn't so sure.

--

Brennan knew what time it was. She knew that Booth was waiting for her right now, waiting to hear how she felt about the kiss. "Oh God," she muttered aloud. Booth kissed her and she had kissed him right back; it was almost too much for her to process. Brennan wanted to examine the situation rationally, but she just couldn't. It wasn't that she'd never considered it, she had. It was a place she rarely let herself go, but sometimes she couldn't help it. Couldn't help but feel there was something more than a deep friendship between them.

Two weeks ago, she had been happily dating Sully. Enjoying her first relationship with a normal guy in, well maybe forever. Sully was great. He was fun, good looking and good in bed. But she didn't fall in love with him. That bothered her; everyone else thought she should and she did too. So Brennan tried. Tried to make it something more, hoping the feelings would come. Not that she knew what that sort of love was like, but instinctually she knew it was deeper than what she felt for Sully.

When Sully had first asked her to sail away, she had known her answer almost immediately. No. She liked him all right, but not enough to give up her life. Her work alone was reason enough to stay. It was draining; Sully was right about that. Nevertheless, it was what she did, who she was. And despite what Sully thought, it was worth it. Perhaps he was right and she couldn't or shouldn't do it forever. For now though, she was at the beginning of this part of her career. There was still so much for her to learn.

However, Brennan started to question her decision when everyone she knew told her to go. Especially Booth. She wasn't sure what she expected from him. Most of her wanted him to give his usual good solid advice. A smaller and scarier part wanted him to ask her to stay, to tell her that he needed her. When he told her to go so quickly, it hurt.

"_So it had nothing to do with me?" _

Booth had voiced what she had been unable to face. She didn't want to leave any of her family right now. Her brother and father, wherever they were, would someday return. Then there was her other family, Angela and the people at the Jeffersonian. But the first thing that had come to mind when Sully asked, was that she wouldn't see Booth for an entire year. He had become such a presence in her life that so much time without him seemed … unimaginable. Until tonight, she had succeeded in convincing herself that work and family were reason enough to not drop everything and sail away with Sully.

Then Booth kissed her. A kiss that couldn't be easily forgotten. A kiss that had shaken her, in more ways than one. Now she had to accept that perhaps Booth had more to do with her staying than she wanted to admit.

Checking the time, Brennan realized she was going to be late if she didn't leave right now. She got up slowly, stiff from sitting in the same tense position for so long. They couldn't actually do this; they weren't supposed to. Studying herself in the mirror, she tried to convince herself that it didn't matter what she felt. He was her partner and friend, end of story. Her partner who was waiting for her right now. She could already feel her throat tightening at the prospect of discussing all of this with Booth.

--

The second hand slowly passed twelve again and Brennan was officially seven minutes late. Booth shifted uncomfortably on the stool and wondered if she was actually not coming. The door sounded once again and this time when he looked, it was Bones. She stopped hesitantly inside the front door, one hand clutching her purse as she surveyed the room. Booth stood up and walked to meet her. He was pleased to see the relief in her eyes when she spotted him.

"Hi," Booth said. He paused a moment before moving to Brennan's side, a hand on her lower back as he guided her to a out-of-the-way table. They sat facing each other. Her smile looked tentative and his felt forced as well. He'd hoped she would be … happier.

"Booth, you were right," Brennan said bluntly, catching him off guard.

"About what?" he asked. Before she could answer, a waitress appeared at their side.

"Hi, my name's Kelly, do you wanna hear the specials?" she recited robotically. Booth shot her a look of extreme annoyance, which passed her by unnoticed.

"Do you want to eat?" Booth asked. He wasn't sure he could eat just yet.

"I think I'll just have a beer, something light," Brennan said.

"Same for me, thanks," Booth agreed. The moment the waitress was out of earshot he prompted, "What was I right about?" Booth watched as she looked down at her hands and took several deep breaths. When she raised her eyes to meet his, her face was covered in shadow. He wished for better lighting. Her eyes gave away far more than she knew.

"You were part of the reason I didn't leave with Sully," Brennan admitted honestly. "There were other factors," she emphasized, "but the thought of you not being in my life, it mattered. A lot and I'm … I don't really know what to think about that." Her frank admission threw him and he sat dumbly as she rushed on. "Booth, you mean so much to me and I think that being with you could be amazing," Brennan paused and took a steadying breath, "I just don't think this is the right time. I'm sorry." Her voice was practically a whisper by the end.

"Sure, sure. Don't apologize," Booth said.

It wasn't the flat out no he had expected, but it wasn't a yes. What had he been thinking? She was right about the timing. After all these months, hoping for the perfect moment between them, he had chosen a grungy motel after a tense day to declare himself. Not to mention that she had just ended a relationship. He took hold of her hand and she watched him, waiting expectantly for him to continue. Instead, he released her hand and stood up. "I'm gonna head back. It's been a long day." Booth thought that she looked really beautiful tonight, her hair loose and free, and a casual look he didn't often see. There was no way he could sit across from her.

She watched him take several steps backwards before turning away from her. "Booth," she called. He stopped, but she couldn't say the words to bring him back. "I'll see you in the morning, Brennan." She lowered her head to the table, the sting of tears in her eyes. He never called her Brennan. It's for the bestshe reminded herself. They couldn't cross that line. But what she wanted more than anything right now was to run after him, throw herself into his arms, and kiss him until she forgot all about the damn reasons she wasn't supposed too. Instead, she picked up the bill and headed for the bar to pay.

--

"Not going so well, huh?" the bartender asked sympathetically when Brennan handed her the bill.

"No," she replied guardedly. A man called out loudly from the other end of the bar for his much-anticipated drink. "Go ahead," Brennan said, waving her off and collapsing onto the stool next to her. It's not like she had anything waiting for her besides a dark little motel room. The look on Booth's face when he'd left haunted her. She cared so much about him and maybe that was the issue. She didn't have any problem going after other men who interested her, but none of them were as important in her life as he was. With Booth, everything was different.

"Sorry," Rose said reappearing in front of Brennan. "Some of these guys…. " she trailed off, shaking her head.

"So what happened?" the bartender asked sympathetically.

Brennan studied her for a moment and decided that it couldn't hurt to confess a few things to this sympathetic stranger.

"I kissed someone I shouldn't have," she said slowly, struggling with the phrasing.

Rose nodded knowingly, "So he was married."

"No!" Brennan exclaimed in shock.

"So you're married?"

"No. No one is married or dating or anything," Brennan stated emphatically. "It's just complicated, never mind."

"Do you love him?" Rose asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't know how to tell," she admitted quietly.

"Well, it's pretty easy." Rose said confidently. "Could you picture yourself living without him?"

"No," Brennan said softly, but without hesitation.

"Well there's your answer," she concluded as if it were obvious. Handing Brennan the change she said, "I gotta go, but listen. Don't wait too long. Life is short. Something could happen. Someone else could come along. You can't let the right one get away." She patted Brennan's arm affectionately before leaving.

Brennan walked slowly out of the bar, to her dismay the rain had picked up again. Pulling her coat tightly around her, she ran, stopping only when she reached her door. She stood under the overhang searching for her room key as the storm intensified around her. Suddenly, she remembered leaving it on Booth's dresser. "Shit!" she cursed. Instead of heading to the front desk for a new key, or retrieving her original key from Booth's room, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes.

Fate was telling her to go to him. Fate and nosy bartenders and her own rapidly beating heart. It wasn't rational and she knew that. She was also beginning to learn that there are things that defy reason; Booth had been proving that to her over and over. Maybe love was one of those things. Timing. If they waited six months or a year, would she be any less scared than now? Any less confused? It was an excuse and she knew it.

Brennan mustered up all her courage and rapped her knuckles against his door. She knew that no matter what happened, she needed Booth in her life. He answered the door in the same state of undress he had earlier.

"Hey," Brennan said softly.

"Hey," Booth replied, moving aside so she could enter the room. Her arm brushed across his stomach as she passed by, causing goose bumps to rise. She rubbed her arms self-consciously telling herself it was a reaction to the cold. Booth took several steps closer to her, but didn't say anything, he just watched her intently.

"My room key," she blurted out, "I left it here earlier."

"Oh, right," Booth said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

The key was right where she left it and she picked it up, fiddling with it as she worked up the nerve to say something to Booth. Again, she felt herself floundering when she desperately wanted to speak. Usually speaking her mind wasn't a problem.

Booth appeared to sense her discomfort. He put a hand out and brushed her face tenderly. "Temperance, I just want you to be happy. If you can't be happy with me, well, I can accept that."

Suddenly she didn't care about timing or rules anymore. She had no doubts that Booth would do anything he could to make this work. Slowly she moved forward, her eyes locked intently on his. Reaching out she traced his jaw line with a trembling hand, the stubble slightly rough under her fingers. For the first time, logic and reason had let her down. She was in uncharted territory, but there was no one she would rather discover it with than the man before her.

Booth didn't move. While he wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until they forgot who they were, he was afraid if he even so much a breathed the spell would be broken. She continued to trace his features, her hands grazing across his chest before coming to rest at his waist. "Booth," she whispered as lifted her eyes back towards his, finally leaning in to kiss him.

Her kiss was timid and she broke it off dropping her hands back to her sides. This was the moment. If she stayed, the result was inevitable. Everything would change. "Bones, are you ok?" Booth asked.

"Yes," she said after a moment's consideration, surprised to realize that she actually was. There was nothing timid about her second kiss. She let the longing and the need engulf her. The storm, the murder, the man sailing alone in the Caribbean, all of it faded as Booth deftly removed her clothes. He laid her back against the bed, but hesitated before joining her as his eyes ran hungrily across her naked body. She didn't feel self conscious under his gaze and took the opportunity to enjoy his muscled physique. Booth waited a moment too long, so she said, "Come here," and pulled him down towards her. Flashes from the lightning occasionally lit up the room, but the pair didn't notice. Nothing existed beyond the two of them.

--

Well, I had originally planned this to be a short little hook-up fic, but I think I'll continue it. In most of my fics they get together at the end so I've never gotten to write much of them as a couple. So that's where this will go, awkward new couple stuff, working together, another case, some danger, some angst, some fluff. Now I'm all excited about it.

Anyway please let me know what you thought and if you'd be interested in reading more


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3

So this chapter turned out a bit long. Ok _really_ long, but I couldn't find a good place to break it. So you might want to settle in for a long and (hopefully) good read.

--

Booth's hand snaked out from underneath the blanket, searching for the warm body next to him, but he felt only cold sheets. The sun had already risen and was burning off the few remaining clouds. It was a beautiful morning, except that he was alone. One of his last thoughts before falling asleep last night was that she might not be there when he woke up. He had pulled her even closer towards him, holding her body tight against his as they drifted off. But apparently he hadn't held her tightly enough.

Sitting up he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He glanced towards the bathroom, hopeful that was where she had gone, but it appeared dark. The connecting door to her room, however, stood wide open. Swinging himself out of the bed, he looked around for his clothes. He slipped his black boxer briefs on and noticed his pants crumpled in the corner, but he didn't bother with them. Booth closed his eyes and took a deep breath before walking through the open door.

Brennan was sitting, clearly deep in thought, on her still-made bed, her messy hair concealing most her face. She was wearing the t-shirt from yesterday and in her right hand she clutched the remainder of her clothes.

"Morning," Booth said his voice low. At his words she started, brushing her hair out of her eyes and looking at him.

"Hi," she replied in a small voice. Shyly, she pulled her clothes into her lap, clasping her hands tightly together.

Booth crossed the room and leaned up against the table, folding his arms against his bare chest. "Bones," he began gently, "what are you doing?"

"I'm," She started, then hesitated, "I am going to get dressed." Her voice was unexpectedly light. But she didn't meet his eyes.

"Really," he said as he stepped in front of her. With his finger, his lifted her head until she had no choice but to look at him. "Cause it seems like you are freaking out."

She shook her head and stood up, brushing past him. "No, I'm not," she insisted. "Besides," she said as she tugged at the bottom of her shirt wishing for more length. "There is nothing to _freak out_ about."

"So why are you all the way over there?" Booth asked pointing to her new position across the room.

Brennan was clearly flustered. "I told you. I'm going to get dressed." She surveyed his tight shorts and bare chest, "And you should too."

Shaking his head, Booth decided he couldn't let it drop. He thought things were settled last night, but he knew they had to sort some of this out right now. They couldn't screw this up. "It's ok to be scared, Bones." Her head snapped up and she opened her mouth to protest, but Booth spoke first. "It's a big thing. And, I'll tell you, I was scared when I woke up this morning and you were gone."

Brennan looked at him in realization. "Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think, I just-" She paused as she searched for a word.

"Freaked out?" Booth supplied with a sly grin. A chuckle escaped her lips despite her attempt to contain it.

"Fine," she admitted, "I freaked out." The familiar playful expression on Booth's face at her admission eased her. It was Booth, her closest and most trusted friend. She knew that she could be herself with him and that he would always accept her.

Slowly, Booth moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. After several seconds, she dropped the clothes she was still holding and relaxed against him. They stood in silence until Booth asked in a reluctant whisper, "Do you regret last night?" His breath caught in his lungs as he waited for her answer.

The seconds passed slowly as Brennan stayed silent. She pulled back slightly and he exhaled loudly, his hands on her waist. "No," she said looking him straight in the eye, "I don't." Sliding her arms up, she traced her fingers through the back of his hair and kissed him. Her kiss was passionate and full of promise, but when she broke it off he followed her lead, despite his other ideas.

"We can't mess this up," she said seriously.

"I know," Booth said rubbing her arm reassuringly. "We can take this slow, you know. Figure out what works for us. Bones, we can do this."

The caring and confidence in his voice caused her eyes to fill with tears. He was so sure and had so much faith in them. She'd never been good with relationships and had little faith in her ability to be a 'good' girlfriend. But she had faith in Booth, faith in their partnership. After all this time, he knew her better than anyone and he still wanted her. Still believe they could make a relationship work. Too emotional to trust herself to speak, she smiled at him.

They kissed again, but this time it was Booth who ended it. "We should get ready and grab some breakfast so we can finish with Mrs. Morgan and get the heck out of here."

"Right," Brennan nodded, grateful for something normal to focus on.

"Are you going to apologize to Mrs. Morgan?" Booth asked.

"No," she said immediately.

"Please," Booth begged, giving her a face that would make his young son proud.

"No," Brennan insisted again, though she sounded less adamant. "You're asking me to do this just because we slept together."

"I would ask anyway," Booth said. He lowered his hands to the hem of her shirt and slipped them underneath. "But I expect you to say yes because we slept together." His hands moved up over her ribs before Brennan shooed him away.

"Fine. I will apologize," she allowed frowning at Booth's triumphant look. "But only because we need her as a witness."

"Whatever you say Bones," he teased in a singsong voice. "Come to my room when you're ready and we'll get going."

--

"Mrs. Morgan, I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday," Brennan began in her most sincere tone. "I was out of line and I apologize. I understand that people respond to grief in different ways and I should have been more sensitive. I'm sorry."

"That's alright," Becky said. "And you are right, I know better, but I can't help it. Thank you for apologizing though."

Booth shifted on the couch next to Brennan, touching her leg briefly before taking over the conversation. "Becky, we still have a few questions," Both started.

Brennan tried hard to focus on the interrogation, but their words began to fade into the background. Her skin prickled where Booth's hand had brushed against her. And she suddenly found herself distracted by the thought of how he looked in his underwear, the tight black boxer briefs that so nicely accentuated his anatomy. He was probably wearing them right now…

"They had been friends for so long. They played on the company softball team together every year. Went fishing together," Mrs. Morgan said. Brennan snapped back to attention. Heat crept up her face as she noticed they were both watching her.

Booth leaned over and whispered, "You ok, Bones?"

Nodding, Brennan said, "Yes, please continue." She was embarrassed by her lack of attention. _This is why you aren't supposed to sleep with your partner,_ she couldn't help but think. Doubling her efforts to follow the line of questioning, she managed to follow along, but didn't add any of her own.

"If you think of anything else, you know how to get in touch," Booth said as the three of them stood at the door. Becky's posture was slouched and her eyes were bleak, but there was an air of resolve in her manner. For the first time, Brennan was struck with a pang of empathy. The woman was almost the same age as her and she had lost the man she loved. Brennan's thoughts went involuntarily to the man next to her. Impulsively, she hugged Becky, "I'm sorry," Brennan said. Becky held onto her for an extra moment before letting go.

"Thank you both," Becky said, tears in her eyes.

They stood on the porch after Becky shut the door. Booth put his arm on her back. "That was good, Bones," he whispered into her ear.

--

Several hours later Booth sang along softly to the Led Zeppelin song on the radio and looked over at his sleeping partner. Despite it being the middle of the day, she had fallen asleep less than an hour after they had started driving. Booth didn't wake her. She looked so serene when she was asleep. But he was definitely going to tease her about the small strand of drool hanging off her lip.

In spite of what he had told her about taking it slow, Booth had his doubts that slow was even possible. Their lives were already so intertwined, this next step …. He knew he wouldn't back down, but he wasn't so sure about her. Any moment he expected her to tell him they couldn't do this. He didn't want to wake up every morning and have to check to see if she was still there. Patience. It was going to take patience. And maybe some faith on his part.

"Bones," Booth said shaking her shoulder. "Wake up, we're almost back."

"What … I fell asleep?" she asked bewildered.

"That's ok. I guess something really tired you out last night." Booth couldn't resist adding. His wit was met with rolled eyes. Clearing his throat he asked, "So do you want to go to the lab or …?" He asked despite already knowing the answer. What he wanted to do was ask her to come to his place where they could spend all afternoon in his bed, but he didn't.

"It's three?" Brennan asked, squinting into the sun at the clock on the dash.

"Yeah," Booth said.

"I really should check in at the lab."

"The lab it is then," Booth said somewhat regretfully.

Brennan pulled out her Blackberry and busied herself with email until they arrived at the Jeffersonian. She put the phone back into her purse as he pulled to a stop before the entrance. "You're not coming in?" she asked.

"No, I should report to Cullen." Booth said. Her hand was on the door handle, but instead of opening it she glanced around cautiously. Satisfied that no one was looking, she leaned over and quickly kissed Booth.

"Ok," she said conspiratorially. "Call me later and we can work on the case notes." Brennan hoped out of the car, leaving a slightly stunned Booth behind her.

--

"So?" Cam asked. The team was assembled in Brennan's office, their faces eager to hear if they had once again caught the bad guy. Brennan was relieved to be back in her lab; the last twenty four hours with Booth had been almost surreal. She had forgotten about the world that existed beyond the two of them. Work was good. She needed to focus and prove that her inattentiveness with Mrs. Morgan was just a fluke. It was possible to do this job and be involved with her partner, she just had to find the balance.

She nodded, "Booth and I believe we have enough evidence for a successful conviction."

"Yes!" Hodgins said as he and Zach exchanged high-fives.

Cam rolled her eyes at them and said, "Great. I want everyone's notes before you leave for the weekend." She ignored the look Angela and Hodgins exchanged. "No exceptions, people," she said before turning and marching out. Hodgins and Zach followed behind, arguing over who had do the write-up on the time of death.

Angela stayed behind and sat on Brennan's desk. "So," she said suggestively, "how was your night with Booth?" Brennan stayed stationary, trying not to break her poker face. _Angela can't possible know anything, _she assured herself.

"The _separate_ rooms at the Vacation Inn don't really lend themselves to discussion," Brennan said, putting an extra emphasis on 'separate' hoping her friend would drop her inquiry. Angela was her best friend and when Brennan finally told someone, she would be the first. But she wasn't at that point yet.

"Ok. Ok," Angela said in defeat. "But one of these days when I ask you …" She trailed off leaving it perfectly obvious what she meant.

Smiling gratefully at Angela, Brennan tried to change the subject, "Another case solved, huh?"

Angela ignored her and leaned across the desk, studying her friend carefully. Brennan felt herself wither under Angela's intense scrutiny. "So do you miss Sully?" Angela asked.

"Not really," Brennan answered truthfully. "Look, I really need to get to work."

"Did you and Booth talk about why you stayed?" Angela asked undeterred by her friend's reticence.

"Ange, please." Once again, Angela had read the situation correctly. Brennan didn't want to lie to her, but she just wasn't ready to discuss it.

"Ok Bren," Angela said thoughtfully patting her shoulder before she stood up. "But we are in need of some serious girl talk." Angela had known from the beginning that Brennan and Booth were prefect for each other. Not much had changed her mind and, more importantly, not much had changed her friend's mind. If Brennan was going to fall for anyone else it would have been Sully. He was a great guy, good looking and easy going. But Brennan had another man in mind, whether she admitted it or not. Angela turned back to speak, but Brennan was already immersed in her computer.

--

"Brennan," she answered absently when the phone rang later.

"Hi, Bones." she felt a flip in her stomach at the sound of his voice.

"Booth," She said stifling a yawn. Looking at the clock she was surprised to see it was almost nine. She had expected Booth to call much earlier. "It's late."

"I know," he said and she knew from his tone what his next words would be. "There's a body," he said the words slowly as if delivering bad news. She couldn't help the sigh that escaped from her lips.

"We can go out there first thing tomorrow," Booth said. "It's late and we are both tired."

"Are there lights at the scene?" Brennan asked.

"Yes," Booth said. They'd been working together long enough for him to anticipate her questions. And, unfortunately in this case, her reactions.

"We should go out there tonight," she said, trying to sound like her heart was in it. "Pick me up here, you can fill me in on the way."

--

"Local PD says some hunters found the body off the side of the road. One of their dogs got a hit on it. Supposedly it's almost all bone, but the cops think maybe male based on the clothes. "

"How is it your case?" she asked, not really caring about the jurisdictional details.

"It's on Federal land," he explained simply. Booth watched as his partner fought off another yawn. Guiltily, he thought maybe he shouldn't have told her about the case until tomorrow. "Look Bones, this case isn't urgent. It'll keep till tomorrow."

"Booth, we're doing this," she said annoyed. "We can at least get a good start tonight."

"Ok, Bones," he conceded. Booth wondered if something else was bothering her. They had been back in the 'real world' for several hours and he hoped she hadn't changed her mind about anything. It was one thing to be together in a strange town miles from home. Would the change in their relationship survive the return to D.C.?

"Booth," she said fervently, "for now, I … we shouldn't tell anyone about this. About us." Frowning he looked at her. He hadn't expected to go shouting the news from the rooftops, but he hadn't intended for it to be a secret either. "Just for now," she added sensing his reluctance.

"Alright. But this isn't some dirty little secret." Booth said. "We're not doing anything wrong here."

"Really?" she asked. "I thought the FBI prohibited partners becoming involved romantically."

"They do, Bones," Booth said carefully. He didn't like to point out that they weren't really partners in that sense. "You don't work for the FBI," he said uncomfortably, "so technically those rules don't apply to us." Keeping his eyes on the road, he waited for her reaction.

"I guess you're right," she said grudgingly. They turned a corner and the darkness was disturbed by the staccato flash of police lights. "But for now, you won't say anything?"

"This isn't a rebound thing, is it?" Booth asked, the idea suddenly occurring to him.

"What do sports have to do with this?" Brennan asked confused.

"Never mind," Booth said, choosing not to explain the analogy. "I won't say anything." He agreed parking the Suburban next to a fire truck.

"Thanks, Booth," she said putting a hand on his thigh before climbing out of the truck and switching into work mode.

--

"Hey, Bones," Booth said putting a hand on her back and bending down next to her. She had been working carefully freeing the remains from the swampy weeds and mud that ensnared them. He had been checking out the crime scene and talking to the other officers.

"Well," she said, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "It's a male, probably 45 – 55. Significant pre- and post- mortem trauma. Fractures to the left humerus, ulna, trapezium. Almost all of the teeth are missing. The area will need to be screened tomorrow to find any that remain." She paused and looked down at the remains, "Transverse fractures here and here along the fibula," she said pointing to the legs.

"Could that be cause by someone falling down the embankment?" Booth asked pointing up towards the road.

Brennan stood up and stretched, her back sore from hours bent over the remains. Staring off into the artificial light towards the hill she said, "Yes, especially the trauma to the arms and legs." She circled the corpse slowly, a look of deep concentration on her face. "I am unable to discern which injuries took place before death and subsequently the cause of death." She said more to herself than to Booth, but he was listening.

"Ok. Well I guess you've done all you can do here," Booth said walking around the body to join her. She opened her mouth to protest, but a hand on her back stopped her. "It's late and you need to sleep." His tone made it clear that they were through for the night.

Brennan yawned again and grinned at him sheepishly. "Alright," she gave up. One of the FBI crime scene techs approached and she shifted putting more space between her and Booth. Booth stood back and watched as Brennan gave the tech explicit instructions for removing and transporting the remains. The tech, who probably knew all this already, stood silent, nodding when appropriate. Booth could tell the kid was enamored with Bones. His look of both awe and fear made Booth smile.

"What are you smiling at?" Brennan asked, pulling off her gloves as she approached him.

"I think you've got a fan," Booth said nodding towards the tech who had been watching her, but turned quickly away. Brennan punched him playfully in the chest and headed for the truck.

The ride back was spent in a comfortable and exhausted silence broken only by occasional and half hearted comments about either case. Neither one was particularly happy to begin a new case before the last was complete. Now in addition to preparing their notes on the Morgan case they had an entirely new case that certainly appeared to be murder thus far.

Booth parked in front of Brennan's building. "So," he said trying to be cheerful, "we've got about three hours before we have to be back at work again." He got out of the car and opened the back, removing her overnight bad and field kit.

"I can get those," Brennan said moving to take the bags from his hands.

"I got it, Bones," Booth said easily and sidestepped her, heading towards her apartment. She followed along behind.

The clock on her microwave read 3:33. Booth yawned loudly as he set her bags down on the kitchen counter. He leaned back against the counter and Brennan joined him at his side. He put his an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her forehead before resting his head on hers. "I guess I should go," he said with a sigh.

"Why don't you just stay," Brennan suggested reasonably. "We don't have long to sleep and you'll waste time driving."

"Sure," Booth said, easily convinced. He followed her into her bedroom, stopping at the door and watching as she kicked off her shoes and collapsed backwards onto her bed. Booth unbuttoned his shirt and joined her. He lay still for a moment, enjoying the soft comfort of the mattress. Much better than the Vacation Inn. Then he turned on his side and put his arms around Brennan inhaling deeply, enjoying the faint scent of her shampoo. He could feel her take several deep breaths before releasing a contented sigh.

"What did you mean about rebound?" Brennan asked after several minutes of silence.

"It's nothing, Bones," Booth said.

"No, Booth. I really want to know."

"Ok, well you're right, rebound is a sports term. Basketball," he said feeling a small measure of pride that she had recognized that it was sports related. "But in this case it means …. Well, it's like you were dating Sully. Then you guys broke up and we got together. Sometimes when people get out of one relationship they don't want to immediately get in another relationship. So they look for something casual or totally different." Booth stopped, aware that he was doing a poor job at explaining.

"And you think that's what this is?" Brennan asked. "Some sort of diversion?" she questioned, turning over to face him.

"Not for me." Booth said, "But I know that you were happy with Sully and he has only been gone a couple weeks."

"Booth," she said earnestly. "I did have fun with Sully. But nothing like this." Reaching out she touched his face before pressing her lips to his. "I promise," she added settling back into his arms. Ten minutes later, they were both snoring softly.

--

The lab was in full swing the next day as Brennan studied the bones on the table before her. She wiped at her face with the back of her arm and heard someone approach behind her.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but there has been too much damage done to pull an ID from dentals," Angela said apologetically. She knew that wasn't the information her friend wanted to hear.

"Where is Zach?" Brennan asked irritably. Her lack of sleep over the last several nights was definitely catching up with her.

"I'm right here, Dr. Brennan," He said popping up behind her.

"Finish cataloging the injuries," She ordered. "We need to determine which injuries were pre- and post-mortem."

"We still think the gunshot to the back of the head was the fatal wound, right?" Zach asked as he took over for Brennan at the table.

"It looks that way, but we need to be sure," Brennan insisted. She needed to call Booth and fill him in on the mornings discoveries. This case didn't look like it was going to be easily solved. And she still had her notes to complete from the Morgan case. Well, she could only do one task at a time.

"Ange, when you get the reconstruction done -"

"I'll send it over to the FBI, don't worry Bren," Angela said.

--

Later, Hodgins entered her office carrying a small petri dish. "Found something interesting," he said setting it down in front of Brennan.

"Is that some sort of fang?" Brennan asked as she studied the specimen.

"Yup." Hodgins announced proudly. "Found it in some of the clothing."

"It's broken," she said pointing to one end. "Any idea what kind of snake?"

Hodgins shook his head. "Not too sure. I haven't taken the time to research it yet. There's a lot of material to examine … I thought maybe you could consult a herpetologist," he offered as he slowly backed out of the office.

"Ok," Brennan said laughing. "I'll do that. Good work Hodgins." He smiled before leaving.

Brennan pulled up her contact list and searched through the names. She knew a herpetologist at Georgetown and though they hadn't spoken in a while, she hoped he would be willing to help.

"Yes, this is Dr. Brennan calling for Dr. Marr," she said to the receptionist. To her surprise her call was put right through.

"Tempe?" Doug asked as if he wasn't sure he'd heard his secretary correctly.

"Yes, Doug, it's me. I know it's been a long time since we talked, but I was hoping you could help me with something. For work," she added hastily.

"Calling me up out the blue and asking for a work related favor, must be Tempe Brennan."

_Sounds like the same old arrogant Doug_, she thought, but didn't say.

"We found a fang at a crime scene," she pressed on, "I was hoping you could identify it for us."

"So you're sure your not calling me up for a date?" His cavalier question was met with silence. "And you still have no sense of humor, I see," he said dryly. "You're lucky you caught me. I'm leaving the country tomorrow. Can you get it here this afternoon?"

Brennan checked the time. She supposed she could take an hour to deliver the fang. Something about it felt important. _But I'm not going with my gut here,_ she admonished herself. "Sure, I'm leaving now."

--

"Hi Angela," Booth said from the door of her office. Angela looked up from the drawing she was working on.

"Booth," she replied with a smile. "What's up?"

Booth raised the file in his left hand, "Got some possible John Doe's. Is Brennan around?"

"No," Angela said shaking her head. "Hodgins found a snake fang or something in the clothes and Brennan took it to a herpetologist to get it checked out."

"I just talked to her like forty minutes ago and told her I was coming over." Booth was annoyed. "She could have called if she was going to go running off." He muttered.

"Well you know how she gets when she's working," Angela said with a shrug. Booth stood still, his eyebrows knitted in consternation. "I'm sure it's not because she used to date him," Angela couldn't help but add. Booth was so easy to tease.

"The herpes guy?" Booth asked sharply, unable to hide his interest.

"Yeah," Angela answered slowly, surprised by his reaction. "It was a few years ago and she never said much about it." His face was dark and Angela wished she hadn't said anything.

"Ok, thanks," Booth said distractedly as he walked out of her office.

--

Might as well stop here. I'll probably won't get the next chapter up this weekend, as I haven't written much of it yet. I did write a bit of one of the last chapters, which involves a shootout. So much fun to write.

Please let me know what you thought. Any parts you especially liked or didn't like? Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 4.

This was all ready to post on Saturday, but for some reason I couldn't get anything uploaded all weekend. The extra time means it's pretty well edited, so that's a plus. Thanks for the reviews last time, it's always interesting to know what parts strike people.

--

The door opened with a whoosh of air as Booth shoved it out of his way. Stomping outside, he whipped out his cell phone, his fingers automatically going for speed dial 1. But he stopped himself just in time. He dropped the phone to his side. What am I worried about?, he wondered as he paced along the sculptured lawn. Bones wasn't going to run off with some herpologist guy. Angela had been right the first time; she had forgotten he was coming over because she was so immersed in her work.

Booth stopped walking and leaned up against an oak tree. Briefly, he pictured himself driving to whatever university she was at, just to make sure. He could; Angela knew where this guy worked. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. As temping as it may sound right now, he knew it wasn't a good idea. This was one of those times when he just needed to have a little faith. He could call her though - just to tell her he was here with some possible id's. That was a perfectly legitimate reason.

"Booth?" a familiar voice broke into his thoughts.

"Bones, hey," Booth looked up, both surprised and relived.

"What are you doing out here? I saw you walking off when I drove in?" she asked concerned.

"I was just waiting for you," he raised the files.

Her face fell as she remembered. "I'm sorry. Hodgins discovered a snake fang among the clothing. Dr. Marr is leaving tomorrow and I really wanted to get it analyzed."

"That's ok Bones," Booth said joining her on the sidewalk. "I haven't been here too long. And that fang thing might narrow down our candidates."

Completely instep, they walked back toward the entrance to the lab, Brennan just close enough to Booth that their shoulders occasionally touched. He met her eyes and she gave him a bright smile. Immediately, he was grateful that he hadn't followed her.

"So what did you find out about the fang?" Booth tried to push the ex-boyfriend factor out of his thoughts.

"Not much yet," she ducked under his arm as Booth held the door open for her. "Dr. Marr should have some information for us later."

"So this Dr. Marr, he's … good, huh?" Booth tried to sound casual.

"He's very good. He's also very … arrogant." Brennan concluded.

"Oh yeah? Any other words you want to use to describe him?" he pressed.

"Not really," she gave him a curious look. They entered her office and Booth flopped down on the couch, tossing the folder onto the table in front of him and stretching out, his arms extended over his head.

Brennan sat down at her desk and turned her attention to her computer. "What you aren't gonna help?" Booth asked. "First you tell me you are going to be here and then you leave. Now you need to what, check your email?"

Seconds after he finished speaking her printer whirred to life. She picked up the paper and sat next to him on the couch, though not too close. "Zach's updated report."

"Oh," Booth gave her an apologetic smile.

She set the papers on the table. Putting her hands on her knees she said, "I am sorry Booth. I should have been here. I know I need to pay more attention to things like that. I am trying." Her brows were knitted tightly together.

"Hey, it's ok" Booth leaned over, covering her hand with his. "We're doing fine," he said reassuringly.

She looked at the door and pulled her hand out from under his, clearing her throat.

"So what have you got?" she asked, nodding at the folder on the table.

"We narrowed it down to about 80 possibles based on the time of death, age, and height you provided." He opened the folder and rifled through it. "One guy was a vet, so I'm thinking with the snake fang, maybe we should check him out first."

"Zach found a prior break. There's a fracture on the ulna that predated the other injuries by several years," Brennan read from the report. "And evidence of bite marks?" she continued, intrigued. "Apparently, he was attacked by an animal."

Booth found the report he was looking for and passed it over. "Dr. Andrew Ramsay. Age 53. He ran a veterinary clinic and animal sanctuary out by Rt. 24. Went missing three months ago."

Brennan read in silence, the flipping of pages occasionally filling the air. "It could be him," she declared finally. "Can you get his medical records sent over?" she looked up from the paper to see that Booth was already dialing.

"Ok, they'll be here in about an hour," he flipping his phone shut. "So … what should we do while we wait?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Brennan smiled back in spite of herself. "Well, we are going to get an update from Hodgins and Angela." She brushed past him towards the door. "Grab the picture, Angela should have something for us to compare it too."

--

"That's amazing," Booth said holding Angela's drawing up next to the picture of Andrew Ramsay. Side by side the similarities were readily apparent.

"Yes, sometimes I even amaze myself," Angela smiled proudly.

"You even knew he was compassionate," Brennan said. Both Angela and Booth looked at her strangely. "What?" she asked defensively. "He devoted his life to taking care of animals, of course he was compassionate."

Angela laughed and headed for her desk. She turned back to tease her friend even further, but caught Booth giving Brennan a look so hot that she felt herself blush. Quickly, she busied herself with several drawing pencils. Something was definitely going on between the two of them. She was hurt that Brennan didn't talk to her about it; though her friend could be very private when things were important. Angela would give her a little time before she pried, but not too much.

Brennan cleared her throat and said, "Thanks Ange. I think we've found our victim. We need to check in with Hodgins."

"Oh, he's not here. He said he had some research to do, but I'm supposed to tell you," she looked skyward as she struggled to recall the specific scientific terms. "Basically, he found some exotic plants, which he was oddly excited about. He said to tell you that the murder scene might be some sort of exotic garden. He also found compost, or something less pleasant."

"Wow," Booth said optimistically. "Maybe this will be like that other case and there will only be like one plant in the country." He pulled the poker chip out of his pocket and flipped it in the air. Hopeful of anything that would speed up the case so they could finally have some time to relax.

"Maybe," Brennan said. "Thanks Ange." She touched Booth on the arm and he put down the drawing and followed her.

"You guys have fun," Angela called out suggestively behind them.

--

The Ark Animal Veterinary Clinic and Animal Sanctuary was almost an hour of out D.C. situated on several acres of lightly wooded, rolling land. Brennan read pertinent facts from the case file while Booth drove. "No suspects, no substantial leads, very little forensic evidence. No evidence of foul play. He was well liked and respected by everyone."

"I guess not everyone," Booth sighed. Cases like this with relatively no leads could be long and difficult. As they neared, Booth and Brennan fell silent; neither wanting to deliver the news of death. The buildings sat back removed from the road, four in all; a house, a barn, a storage shed, and what looked to be the clinic. Booth drove up to the house. They exchanged a quick look before Booth knocked on the door of the house. There was no answer. He knocked again.

"Can I help you?" called a female voice from behind them. They turned to see a woman standing on the porch of the clinic, shading her eyes as she watched them. The woman stayed where she was, so Booth and Brennan went to her.

"Mrs. Ramsay?" Booth asked. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth," he flashed his badge, "and this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan."

Mrs. Ramsay's face drained of color. "The FBI?" she asked warily.

"Yes," Booth nodded.

"And you," she said turning her attention to Brennan, "are you a coroner?" she choked on the last word.

"I'm a forensic anthropologist," Brennan said delicately. There was a flicker of recognition in the woman's eyes before they went dead.

"You've found his body then," the woman's voice shaky.

"Yes, we believe we have. Let's go inside, Mrs. Ramsay." Booth rushed ahead to open the door and Brennan put her arm around the woman and led her inside.

"Please come back to the office." They followed her down the hallway. Booth used the opportunity to check the place out. It was obvious that they had fallen on hard times. Several expensive looking machines sat covered in dust, unused.

Anne sat behind a large wooden desk while Booth and Brennan took the chairs opposite. She leaned her head back against the high back of the chair and closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths and tears slid from her eyes. They gave her time and she finally opened her eyes and shook her head. "Ok," she exhaled slowly.

Brennan looked at Booth and he nodded slightly. "Mrs. Ramsay, was your husband ever attacked by an animal on his arm?" She touched her own forearm approximating the area of the injury.

"Please call me Anne." She wiped fresh tears from her eyes with a kleenex. "A year ago he was attacked by a husky we had taken in. The poor dog had been abused. It was a bad bite, twenty seven stitches and all the way down to the bone."

"We found evidence of that. We will perform a DNA test to be absolutely sure … but it's him." Brennan was positive and she wanted to give the woman answers. "We're every sorry for you loss," she said.

Booth nodded sympathetically. His was glad to see his partner was doing well with Mrs. Ramsay, who held up to the news surprisingly well. Booth got the impression she had been preparing herself for it for quite a while.

"How did he die?" she asked, quietly gripping a pen tightly in her hand.

"We are not positive yet, but probably a gunshot wound," Brennan answered. Mrs. Ramsay took another quiet moment.

"We read the report," Booth said gently, "At the time, you couldn't think of anyone who might want to harm your husband, has anything changed?"

"No, I know there were some financial problems. Andrew always cared more about his animals that his finances. He could never say no, would never turn an animal away." Anne smiled through her tears as she remembered. "Who would want to hurt him?" she mumbled.

"Did you ever keep snakes here, venomous snakes?" Brennan asked.

"Occasionally something local, a rattlesnake or copperhead." She sniffled. "When can I bury him?"

"As soon as we are done with the investigation. We will try to finish quickly," Brennan promised.

Anne looked closely at her. "You know my sister loves your books. It's a little surreal that you are here, telling me this."

"I'm sorry," Brennan said ruefully.

"No, don't be sorry. I know that you are the best, both of you. I know you'll find out who killed him."

Booth and Brennan rose to leave. "Are you going to be alright? Is there someone you can call?" Booth was reluctant to leave her alone.

"My daughter. I'll probably stay with her for a few days, if you need to get in touch with me."

"Thank you Mrs. Ramsay and again we are very sorry," Booth said soothingly.

"I knew this day would come," Anne said sadly. "My Andrew would never leave me. He would have done anything he could to get back to me. At least now the waiting is over." She picked up a phone on her desk and began dialing.

Stepping out the front door of the clinic, they saw a man pushing a wheelbarrow across the lot. Booth gave Brennan a puzzled look and started towards the man. He flashed his badge and gave the usual introductions. The man's name was Leon. For five years, he had worked at The Ark as a maintenance man. Doing odd jobs, helping with the animals.

"But there are no employees on the books any longer," Brennan interrupted.

"Does she pay you in cash?" Booth asked. Leon looked nervously towards the clinic and nodded "It's ok. That's not what we are here about."

Nodding, he looked nervously to the clinic. "Did she mention Stephens? She didn't last time. I know it's family and it's none of my business, but there was some stuff that went on there."

"Whose Stephens?" Booth focused intently on Leon.

"Mark Stephens. He used to be married to her daughter. Helped to run the place. He handled the business end and Doc worked with the animals. Something happened and they got a divorce. It was ugly man; she wanted nothing to do with him. All the sudden he was out of the business. He wasn't too happy about it."

"Thanks, we will check that out," Booth said, giving the worker his most intimidating look.

--

"So were gonna bring this Stephens guy in, right?" Brennan asked once they were back in the car.

"You bet." Booth rolled down his window and enjoyed the warm spring air. "Son-in-law kicked out of the family business, that's a motive."

Brennan checked a message on her phone. "Doug has some information for us on the fang. I need to meet him back at his office."

"No problem. We can head over there now." Booth didn't like the idea of her seeing this guy alone. Besides, he couldn't help but be curious about the men Bones had been with, no matter how much he didn't want to think about it.

"Don't you need to go pick up Stephens?"

"That's ok, I'll have someone bring him in for us." Booth reached for his phone and called in the request.

--

They approached the sprawling building on the Georgetown campus that housed the herpetology department. "Booth," Brennan grabbed his arm to keep him from going in. She pulled him over to the side. "I'm not sure if I am supposed to tell you, but I went on several dates with Dr. Marr."

"Anything recent, or-" Booth kept his face passive.

"No it was several years ago. It doesn't mean anything; I just thought maybe I should mention it," she finished awkwardly. "I'm not sure what the rule is."

Booth smiled. "There are no 'rules' here Bones," he said making air quotes as he said rules. "I know you love rules so we could make some up…" he offered mischievously trying to get her to smile. She looked so serious.

"Oh, I thought - no guidelines or anything?" She didn't quite believe him. It seemed there were tons of little dating do's and don'ts that everyone knew but her. Angela, for example, was an expert at the subject; she'd even developed a set of stages for a relationship.

"How about the truth," Booth proposed with soft eyes. Brennan nodded; the truth was something she could handle.

"Ok Bones," Booth said as he led them back towards the door, "Let's see what kind of guy you used to date," he added under his breath.

Dr. Marr was bent over something in the corner of his office when they entered, his long hair hiding his face. "Doug?" Brennan called.

He stood up, a bright smile on his face, which dimmed slightly when he saw Booth standing behind her. "Tempe," Dr. Marr said in greeting.

He came closer as if to hug her, but Brennan stepped to the side and said, "This is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth." Booth stuck out his hand and cut him off, appraising the man before him. He was shorter than Booth and looked like a surfer, complete with several well-worn hemp necklaces around his neck. The handshake lasted a split second longer than it should, both men taking the opportunity to size up the other. Booth's grip was firm, but so was Marr's.

"Come here," Dr. Marr waved them over to a table in the corner. Booth tripped on a pile of magazines stacked precariously in the middle of the floor.

"Sorry," Dr. Marr shot back over his shoulder. "I try to spend as little time as possible here."

"I don't blame you," Booth looked around the room with disgust.

"Dr. Marr prefers to spend most of his time in the field," Brennan felt compelled to explain. Booth's only response was a quizzical look.

"Might as well be out there discovering and experiencing life and nature. Not trapped in some building living by someone else's rules," he philosophized.

"The fang," Booth prompted, he wasn't in the mood to listen to the guy's life story.

"Well, accurate identification of a species by one fang alone is not easy. This fang does have several unique characteristics." Sliding a tray under the microscope, he motioned for Brennan to look. Leaning close to her, he rested his hand on her shoulder as he spoke. "As you can see the fang is hollow. Several families such as Colubridae, Elapidae, and Viperidae use these hollow fangs to deliver the venom to their prey."

Brennan straightened up, and Booth was relieved to see Dr. Marr's somewhat disappointed look. "Take a look," she said to Booth.

"Also," Dr. Marr continued, "This fang is very large. Almost 5 centimeters, not counting the broken tip. There are few species that have fangs that long. My best guess is that we are looking at a _Atracaspis microlepidota_, burrowing viper or _Bitis gabonica_, a Gaboon viper. Both commonly found in Africa. The burrowing viper has a small head that doesn't display the normal characteristics of a viper. And the Gaboon, well-" Dr. Marr paused for a moment and looked at Brennan. "I believe we saw one in Mbandaka that time, down by the river. Very large with a triangular head."

Brennan felt Booth shift beside her at the mention of the African village. "Oh right," Brennan said uncomfortably. "So there's no way this could be from a local venomous snake?" she asked quickly.

"No. Not with a fang this long," he said dismissively. "You found this at a crime scene?"

"Yes," Brennan answered, reluctant to give him too many details.

"It's rare. The snake would have been rare and illegal to possess. You don't just come across this by accident." Dr. Marr carefully packaged the fang and handed it back to Brennan along with a slip of paper with a phone number scribbled on it.

Booth let out a rush of air at the sight of the phone number.

"This is the number of one of my best students, Ken. He should be able to help you with anything else. Tempe," he said stepping towards her, causing Booth to shift closer as well, "it was great to see you." Marr said, deciding not to go for another hug as he surveyed her partner's dark look and aggressive posture.

"Right, um you too. And thank you." Brennan turned towards the door.

"And G-man," Dr. Marr called.

When Booth turned to look, Dr. Marr flashed him the peace sign. Booth stopped dead, but Brennan put her arm on his back and gave him a push. "Come on Booth," she muttered.

"Did he just give me the piece sign?" Booth asked incredulously.

"Better than the other sign he could have given you," Brennan said dryly as she kept him moving in the proper direction down the hall.

--

The sun had already set by the time they arrived back at Booth's apartment. They both were tired and hungry. Booth couldn't say that he was disappointed that Stephens now lived in Oregon and wouldn't be available for questioning right away. Ordering takeout and relaxing had been the winning plan for the evening. Brennan walked into Booth's kitchen and picked up the takeout menus from their usual spot. "Do you feel like Thai? Chinese? Indian?" she asked flipping through the menus.

Booth took two from her and stared down at them, not actually processing what he was seeing. "So," he began stiffly, "I thought you said that you and the snake guy only went on a few dates."

"We did." She confirmed his statement, not entirely surprised that the subject had come up.

"So what's this stuff with Africa?" he continued.

"That's where we dated. Africa," she said matter-of-factly. "I was working on a dig and he was studying the local snake population."

"Right," Booth said a bit dejected. Of course, she would have relationships in exotic locations. Beautiful women, even complex ones like Brennan, are rarely wanting for company. It wasn't that Booth didn't have the same travel experiences; he had been all over the world too. Both of their travels centered on the dead, but the similarities ended there; his left less time for enjoying the local surroundings.

Brennan could tell by his expression that he was troubled.

"Booth," Brennan set down the menus and focused on him. "This really bothers you doesn't it?"

"No," he replied unconvincingly.

"You are jealous." She gave him an exasperating smirk.

"Nah, Bones, you got it all wrong," Booth said. He leaned back against the table, setting the menus down and crossing his arms over his chest.

"No I don't," she insisted. "You are jealous." Booth chose to attribute the excitement in her voice to reading his mood, not the jealousy itself.

"Of who, the hippie surfer snake guy? Please," Booth said dismissively. She held his gaze, the smirk still on her lips. "Maybe a little," he conceded after a pause.

"You know," Brennan said walking towards him, "I wouldn't expect a guy whose belt buckle says 'cocky' to get jealous so easily." She tugged on the belt buckle and he sucked in his breath. Her hand remained on the buckle as she stepped in closer.

"There must be something I can do to convince you that you have no reason to be jealous." Brennan's voice was low and husky, making everything she said sound extremely sexy. Booth was completely mesmerized as she ran her hands up his chest, stopping at his collar. One by one, she unbuttoned the buttons of his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. She took her time, enjoying his smooth skin beneath her fingers, before she turned her attention back to the belt buckle.

Neither said a word as she loosened his pants, which dropped unceremoniously to the floor, soon joined by his boxers. Booth took several deep breaths, in a futile attempt to calm himself. He watched as she pulled her shirt up and over her head, revealing a black bra covering white skin. He couldn't quite believe that this was happening.

But when Brennan finally moved kissing first his chest, then his shoulder, and finally his neck, his ability to question anything disappeared. And when one of her hands snaked back down his front, skimming slowly past his abdomen, Booth was lucky he had the table to support him.

"Oh God," Booth grunted.

"Not God," she whispered into his ear. "only Bones."

That was it. Booth couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed her and turned, setting her up on the table. He fumbled with her zipper for a moment. In one fluid motion, he lifted her up with one arm and slid her pants off with the other. At last, he kissed her, capturing her mouth with his, sliding his hands up her thighs and pulling her tightly against him. As he moved against her, she clutched his back, her nails digging into his skin. When she finally called out his name with abandon, it didn't take him long to join her.

--

The living room was lit softly from behind, the light in the kitchen the only one on in the entire place. Booth and Brennan sat curled up together on the couch under a blanket. Booth occasionally kissed her, but for now he was content, holding her tightly against him.

"I'm still hungry," Brennan said languidly.

Booth laughed. "Yeah, we should order something. But that means we have to get up and most likely put on clothes."

"Soon," she exhaled contentedly.

"Go out with me tomorrow," Booth asked impulsively.

"What? Don't we have to work?"

Shifting so he could sit up straighter, Booth said, "It's Saturday. We've been working for," he stopped to count, "seventeen straight days. This case is important, but it's not urgent. There's not much we can do until we question Stephens."

"I don't know Booth," she turned to face him.

"We can work all morning, but I've tickets to a Nats game for me and Parker. And after I'm done with my son, there's nothing I'd like to do more than to go out with you. We can get dressed up, go somewhere nice, maybe go dancing."

"But what if someone sees us?" As soon as she said it, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. She expected to see anger in his face, but he just sighed, temporarily resigned to the notion that, for now, their relationship was a secret.

"We'll go somewhere out of the way where no one will see us. What do you say, Bones?" His face was hopeful.

Brennan couldn't help but see the irony. "I know I'm not very good at this, but aren't you supposed to ask me out _before _we have sex on your table?"

"Well, you know me. I don't always do things by the book." He gave her his most disarming smile.

"Yes Booth, I will go on a date with you tomorrow." She was both excited and apprehensive. Booth kissed her, starting with her neck, and all thoughts of dates and take-out food were put on hold.

--

Coming up: Booth and Parker go to the game. Brennan goes dress shopping. Booth and Brennan make a dangerous break in the case. Will they actually make on their date?

Oh and please review!! I've got a crappy week at work this week and they really brighten up the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch5

Sorry this update took awhile. In addition to a tough week at work, my recent relationship completely imploded and my dog was diagnosed with Lupus. Not sure what it says that I am more upset about the dog than the man …. And thanks for all your reviews, I just saw a bunch when I logged into post (I guess the bots aren't botting) and they made me smile!

There was a bit of a problem with the previous chapter; the end went missing for a while. So if you didn't get to sex and Booth asking Bones out on a date, you might want to go back.

Also there is some violence in the next couple chapters. Nothing gratuitous or graphic, but thought I should mention it in light of recent events and preemptions.

--

The sun was already shining brightly through the windows when Brennan woke up. She couldn't believe it; she never slept that late. Slowly, she stretched her arms out over her head and remembered that there should be someone else beside her. But Booth's side of the bed was empty. She forced down a slightly panicked feeling. This was Booth's house and he wasn't going to leave her. Just then, the bathroom door opened and a freshly showered Booth peaked out.

"Morning," Booth said. He opened the door wider and toweled off his hair.

Brennan couldn't help but smile at the sight of him naked and slightly wet. She relaxed back against the pillows, feeling foolish for her moment of doubt.

"I though you woke up at five every morning," he teased.

"Your bed is surprisingly comfortable," she announced. Booth flopped down on the bed next to her, stretching out his legs before he pulled her up next to him and kissed her.

"Am I going to find out that Temperance Brennan really is lazy?"

Choosing to ignore him, she asked eagerly, "So what are we working on this morning?"

"Ok, never mind the lazy part." He laughed. "I already got an email from a overeager prosecutor asking when she can expect the files from the Morgan case. Maybe we should finish those up this morning. Once Stephens gets here we are gonna be busy."

"I really need to do a thorough examination of the remains," Brennan continued hesitantly, "but you are probably right. I would like to finish while the details are still fresh in my mind."

"Plus, you know, it wouldn't kill you to not go into the lab today," Booth said with a yawn. "I've got all my paperwork here so, with a little luck, I won't have to go near the good old Hoover building today."

"My notes are at home, will you give me a ride?" Brennan got out of bed and saw her clothes folded neatly on the dresser. It was a simple gesture, but she found it touching.

"You want to go now?" he asked dubiously. Booth had settled comfortably back into bed and wished that she would relax and join him, but she seemed determined to get some work done. At some point, she was going to have to learn how to properly balance work and life. It was a lesson that Booth occasionally needed to relearn as well. As much as he complained about Brennan's workaholic tendencies, his were not far behind. Getting wrapped up cases and investigations was easy; the rest of the world dropped away and seemed far less important. But that couldn't happen all of the time. They would have to be careful that spending so much time together didn't lead to even more work.

"Yes," Brennan pulled her pants up and looked at Booth expectantly. He didn't move from the bed, but put his arms behind his head and leaned back.

"My keys are on the table. You go home and get what you need and I will cook some breakfast. I am starving." Booth patted his stomach.

"You want me to take the SUV?" Brennan wasn't sure she had heard him right.

"Yes," Booth said giving her an encouraging smile. She slipped her shoes on and bounced to his side, bending down to kiss him.

"I'll be back," she promised.

"Bones!" Booth called after her.

She appeared in the doorway. "What?"

"Don't play with the siren," he admonished

--

The Suburban seemed even bigger than usual as she climbed into the drivers seat. She had driven it before, but only a couple of times, and it felt strange to be driving without Booth. She still couldn't quite believe that she had let her go alone, but she figured that it was a benefit of the change in their relationship. This was Booth's world, but she supposed now more than ever, she shared it. Jumbled images from the last few days passed through her mind; so much had happened in such a short time. Heat swept across her as she remembered how it felt to be close to Booth.

Rolling down the window, she took a deep breath. The spring air still hadn't lost the coolness from the previous night. Maybe it hadn't been necessary to run for work the moment she woke up, but she had to prove that they could handle this without it affecting their work. The look on Booth's face the moment she mentioned work this morning made it obvious how he felt, but he had agreed anyway, knowing how important it was to her.

Truthfully, Brennan was surprised how well things had been going so far. Being with Booth didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable as she had feared; instead it was both comfortable and exciting. She was having trouble labeling her exact feelings. The bartended had spoken to her about love, tried to define it for her, but she still wasn't sure. It was easy picturing the two of them together right now, but when she tried to imagine a future for them … well she wasn't sure. Though, to be fair, any future Brennan pictured focused only on her professional pursuits.

Brennan did know, however, that she was actually looking forward to the day. Aside from Booth's unfounded jealousy regarding Dr. Marr, it was going smoothly. It had changed things between them, but so far the changes were for the better. She felt closer to him, physically of course, but also emotionally. She took great comfort in the small moments. Waking up with him, a stolen kiss, silent camaraderie as they sat on the couch intertwined. And now a date. Not pie and coffee at the diner, but a real 'put on a nice dress and do your hair' date.

Parking in front of her apartment, Brennan refocused on why she was here. But as she walked around the corner and caught sight of the black SUV she couldn't help but smile.

--

"Aw, sorry dad." Parked said. The remnants of his hot dog were now covering both his pant leg and the floor. At a long single to the outfield that scored a run for the Nationals, Parker excitedly jumped out of his seat and cheered, sending the half eaten hot dog flying.

"It's okay bub," Booth tried to hide a sigh; his son was always a mess. It was amazing how sticky Parker could make everything and everyone around him, especially, it seemed, his dad. Leaning over, Booth wiped at the mustard and ketchup, hoping Rebecca wouldn't notice the stain until after he left.

"So are we winning now dad?" Parker was kicking his legs back and forth, making it difficult for Booth to clean the stain. Finally he gave up.

Booth looked at the field, "Not yet Parker. See the score board," he pointed, "R stands for runs. So the Nationals have three, but the Braves have five."

Parker squinted at the scoreboard, his lips moving silently as he tried to figure it out. After a moment he looked proudly at Booth and held up two fingers. "They can do it dad, they only need two runs."

"Well they only have one out, so they have a chance," Booth said. Parker bounced excitedly on the edge of his seat. Maybe he shouldn't have bought him the cotton candy. And the licorice ropes. Booth's thoughts drifted from the close game before them to the upcoming date. He had made reservations at a place where there was little chance they would run into anyone they knew. Things had to go really well tonight. He thought that Brennan was apprehensive about the date.

"Are you nervous dad?" Parker asked pointing. Booth saw that he was tapping his fingers against his knee. Twice in the last several days this particular tell had given him away. It was a good thing he wasn't gambling anymore as his Bones had apparently corrupted his usually controlled exterior. "Is it cause of a girl?" Parked continued when Booth didn't answer right away. "Cause sometimes mommy gets nervous when she goes out dating with boys," Parker said wisely. Booth wasn't sure he liked his young son being so familiar with Rebecca's dating habits.

"Um, yeah," he stalled twisting his hands together. Booth figured he might as well begin introducing Parker to the idea that he was seeing someone.

"Is she pretty?" Parker turned his big eyes to his father.

"Yeah kid," Booth reached out and ruffled his hair, "she's really pretty."

Booth wondered why he was reluctant to tell Parker that the woman he was dating was Bones. His was in love with her, and he knew that she loved him, even though they hadn't said as much. But what he didn't know was if she would actually let herself be in love. The last few days had been great, but Booth worried than the only change she saw in their relationship was the addition of sex. And that was part was great, but Booth wanted a real relationship with her. There was still so much they didn't know about each other. All the little things he wanted to learn more about; like how she knew Chinese, her diving, whatever happened in el Salvador, her childhood and time in foster care. There were things he was ready to share with someone and he knew he could talk to her. But he couldn't shake the feeling that any minute she would end things. That's why things had to be perfect tonight. He wanted her to relax, have a good time, and realize that people go one dates because it is enjoyable, not for any scientific reason.

The crowd cheered and Booth's attention turned back towards the field. The bases were loaded with white jerseys, and the crowed around them stood up and began to cheer. Booth lifted Parker up and helped him stand on the seat so he could see. The agent who had given Booth the tickets had season tickets so their seats were close along the first base line. Booth and Parker cheered loudly along with the rest of the crowd, hoping to inspire the late inning rally. Austin Kearns came up to the plate, dug in with his back foot, and hit a line drive foul ball to the right side. Parker's glove sat forgotten under his chair, but the ball flew towards his so quickly he wouldn't have had a chance to catch it.

Booth reached out and caught the ball with his right hand before it could hit his son. The stadium erupted in cheers at Booth's remarkable catch. He handed the ball to Parker who jumped around exuberantly with his arms high above his head. The crowd cheered even louder when the catch and celebration were replayed on the giant screen. Parker's eyes shone with excitement and his toothy grin was on full display. Booth picked him up and held him above his head for one last triumphant celebration.

"This is the best day ever day," Parker declared happily as he sat back into his seat, holding onto the foul ball tightly in both hands. So far, Booth couldn't argue.

--

Brennan wandered slowly through the couture section of Saks. The entire floor contained racks and racks of dresses. Usually, she had Angela to help her pick out any important outfits in her life, but she still hadn't told her friend. She would have to soon; they both would. Booth wouldn't allow their relationship to be a secret forever. Feeling lost as she perused the aisles, she occasionally stopped to finger the luxurious fabrics. Prada. Dolce & Gabanna. Faragammo. It was like a foreign language to her. Some of the dresses were beautiful and some she couldn't imagine anyone wearing. The memory of the unsuccessful 'school teacher' dress in Vegas was in the back of her mind. She frowned as she considered a short blue Versace.

"Hello, my name is Gemma. May I help you?" a short brown-haired woman asked. Her British accent and warm smile helped to set Brennan at ease.

"I'm looking for a dress." Brennan realized she had stated the obvious. "For an important date tonight," she clarified, feeing a bit awkward telling the woman her business.

"I see. With your … boyfriend?" she guessed with a quick glance at Brennan's left hand. "Ms-"

"Temperance Brennan and yes, my boyfriend." She felt her face flush. She wasn't used to referring to Booth as her boyfriend yet. Somehow, the title just seem accurate.

"Alright luv. Then the real question is, how hot do you want to look tonight?" The salesgirl asked over her shoulder and she took off down the aisle casting a critical eye at the dresses as she went.

Brennan choked at her question. "Um … I'm not sure what the options are." She hurried to catch up to the salesgirl.

Gemma pulled a dress off a rank and held it up in Brennan's direction before turning her well-trained eye to her customer. "You, dear Temperance, have plenty of options." Brennan shrugged in response. "How about this, I'll say some words. Describe some looks and you let me know if anything grabs you."

Brennan nodded, focused on Gemma as if she were about to take an exam.

"Sexy. Unforgettable. Beautiful. Classic. Stunning." When Brennan didn't react to the usual set of adjectives Gemma continued. "Eighteen? Horny? Naughty? Available? Off Limits?" she guessed. Brennan shook her head swiftly indicating the last set of adjectives wasn't correct.

"Right. Well, any favorite designers?" Gemma asked hopefully.

"No, sorry." Brennan shifted. Maybe she shouldn't have bothered with a new dress, the thought. She still had the one Booth picked out for her in Vegas and he seemed to like it.

"Don't worry dear," Gemma patted her arm reassuringly. "Come to the fitting area and relax with a nice cold drink while I bring you some dresses to try."

"But I didn't tell you what I wanted," Brennan objected, confused.

"It's ok. It's my job to know, even if you don't." Gemma showed Brennan the refreshments and headed out determined. She wasn't one of the brightest young sales associates for nothing. Besides, she reflected, the tall auburn-haired woman would look great in just about anything.

It was the sixth dress that Brennan tried on and immediately announced she was purchasing. Gemma was relived, some women shopped for hours dithering back and forth over which dress made their calves look slimmer, or collarbone more defined, or more likely to attract a certain type of man. But not Temperance, she found what she liked and didn't second guess the decision. She didn't seem concerned with the prices, despite her painful lack of couture knowledge, and Gemma was eager to make a big sale.

"So, now off to shoes and lingerie," Gemma suggested cheerfully, hanging the dress carefully by the register.

"Lingerie?" Brennan repeated awkwardly. "I don't need lingerie."

"Well, you definitely don't need to wear panties, but I am not convinced about the bit up top." Gemma stopped walking and studied Brennan seriously. "Are your breasts very firm?" Gemma asked thoughtfully.

"Um … that's not what I meant." Brennan mumbled embarrassed. "Lingerie will be fine." She followed dutifully behind, trusting that Emma was a professional and knew what she was doing.

Several thousand dollars and an hour later, Brennan walked out of the store with an outfit that she hoped would leave Booth speechless.

--

Parker was still talking a mile a minute about the game as they walked up to Rebecca's door. Booth was treated to the millionth rendition as Parker breathlessly filled his mother in on the game.

"Wow," Rebecca caught Booth's eye. "Do you want to come in and so you two can tell me all about it?" she offered.

"No mom," Parker shook his head. "Dad has to go."

"You're in a hurry Seeley?" Rebecca asked, eyebrows raised.

Parker tugged on his mother's arm and whispered into her ear. He ran to his dad and threw his arms around Booth's legs and said, "Thanks dad," Then he ran into the house, still clutching his foul ball.

"So you have a date?" Rebecca asked interested. "Who is it now? Let me guess, she's tall and blonde and looks great on your arm?"

"It's not like that Rebecca." He looked her in the eyes so she could see he was telling the truth and would hopefully drop the matter. This wasn't the time for this conversation.

After several long moments she nodded and said, "So you're finally seeing Temperance, or Bones I guess I should say." Rebecca shook her head. "Even Parker calls her that."

Rebecca's observation stunned him. "How do you know that?"

"We used to know each other pretty well Seeley." Rebecca stopped and looked wistfully into the distance. "Does Parker know?" she asked.

Shuffling on the porch Booth said, "Not yet, it's still kinda new and … you know-" he trailed off.

"Know what?" She asked, not about to let him off the hook.

"We are still figuring things out. But," Booth hesitated; it felt strange to be discussing his current relationship with his ex-girlfriend. However, Rebecca nodded encouragingly. "She's gonna freak out and bolt. I know it. It's just a matter of time." Booth exhaled loudly and felt relief at having finally voice his fear, but he couldn't look at Rebecca's face.

"Seeley," she said tenderly and he looked up. "She's had a hard time and so have you. If she runs, you catch her and hold her tight. She would do the same for you, trust me."

Booth felt a surge of affection for Rebecca as he considered her words. "Thanks," he said and he gave her a quick hug before leaving.

--

On the way back from shopping Brennan found herself heading toward the Jeffersonian. That usually happened when she was driving and not really paying attention, her car just knew the way. Parked near the entrance to the lab, Brennan remembered Booth's teasing about not being able to spend a day away. It wasn't true; she was often away from the lab for days at a time. Well, when they were in the field anyway. Glancing at the clock, she knew she didn't have too much time to waste. Only two hours before Booth would be picking her up. Brennan decided she could spare the time; the notes she wanted to review before they interrogated Stephens were sitting on her desk.

Notes in hand, she turned to leave the lab, but Dr. Ramsay's skeleton caught her eye. She felt drawn to them. Swiping her card she climbed the steps to the platform. Just a few minutes wouldn't hurt, she convinced herself, and bent over to study the bones. Her eyes quickly found the bit mark on the left radius and she studied it intently, wanting to look at it under magnification. Before she could turn on the scope, a security guard strolled by making his rounds.

"Hello Dr. Brennan," he sounded surprised. "Didn't think anyone was still here."

Brennan looked up from the bone, also startled by his presence. "I'm just leaving," She looked at her watch and saw she had already been here for half an hour. As she drove home, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something on the bones.

--

Booth arrived right on time and he was indeed speechless when she opened the door. He knew that she would look good, she always did, but now she looked amazing. "Wow," Booth said dumbly. Brennan was wearing a sleek, shimmering bluish gray dress that showed off all of her curves before stopping just past her knees. Her hair was down and wavy and her eyes were gleaming. Booth also couldn't help but notice that the dress displayed her cleavage quite nicely. He had seen her dressed up before, but this time it was different; it was for him. "You look beautiful," he said softly. Brennan blushed and shyly slid her hands down the side of her dress.

"You look pretty hot yourself," she said, running her hands along his broad shoulders before tugging on his tie and pulling him close for a kiss. When she turned to pick up her jacket, Booth saw the back of the dress was cut low revealing a tantalizing amount of white flesh. He groaned quietly and began to hope that dinner would go quickly.

--

Settling in for the ride to the restaurant, they managed to not discuss work. La Montagne Rouge was a French restaurant that Brennan had never heard of, but that was probably because it was almost an hour out of the city. Booth had remembered the place when they had gone to the animal sanctuary. He hadn't been there in years, but the woman who accepted his reservation assured him it was still first-class. There was also a good place for dancing not too far away.

"So why didn't things work out with Dr. Marr?" Booth couldn't help but ask.

Brennan sighed. "For our fifth date he had sex with a naturalist in the back of a Land Rover."

"And you caught him?" Booth was sorry he had pressed the issue.

"Yes. He did invite me to join in though so…" She trailed off purposefully.

Booth looked over at her with raised eyebrows and she punched his arm. His phone rang before he say anything else. As she listened halfheartedly to his conversation, her mind floated back to the bones on the table. Tomorrow she would be able to examine them properly, but something wasn't right. She couldn't quite figure out what, but somewhere in the back of her mind-

"So we can meet with Stephens first thing in the morning. He wasn't too happy about coming all the way across country. So, I told the guards to have him ready at six, but we'll go around nine," Booth said as they stopped at a red light.

"Hmm," she said distractedly.

"Bones," he said snapping his fingers to get her attention. "Did you hear me? Murder suspect. Nine am? Anything?"

She looked over at him. "I did. Sorry. It's just that, I'm not sure Stephens will have the answers."

Booth waited for her to continue. He had worked with her long enough to know when she was close to something. When she didn't speak he prompted, "What are you thinking?"

"I don't think the bite marks were from a dog," Brennan said, hoping Booth wouldn't realize she had gone back to the lab. "I can't be sure without proper analysis, but I think it is from a much larger animal."

"Like a bear?" Booth suggested. "Or a tiger."

"Why would you say tiger?" Brennan asked.

"I don't know," Booth said a little embarrassed. "You know, lions, tigers and bears. Oh my." Brennan's blank look indicated she wasn't following the reference. "I don't know, It's a big animal." He continued slightly defensive. "We're talking about some poisonous African snake fang, is a tiger really that crazy?" Booth got about halfway through the last sentence before it hit him. He pulled his eyes off the road and looked at his partner to see if the same thought had occurred to her. Her mouth was hanging open slightly and he could tell her mind was flying through the case facts.

"Why would his wife lie about Ramsay being attacked by a dog?" Booth said, thinking as he spoke. "Maybe it was like a tiger or something. You know, Ramsay makes decent money, but it all goes right back into the clinic and there is never enough to help everyone that needs it. So he gets into the illegal exotic business. Uses his organization as a cover. And make some money to pay for all those stray animals and shiny machines."

"The plants," Brennan realized. "Maybe they weren't from a garden. They could have been food. If he was keeping exotic animals, who knows what they were eating." Booth flexed his fingers on the steering wheel and looked back at his partner. They were both excited. "He could have been killed on his own land," Brennan surmised.

"The guys who illegally import animals are also the type who are likely to off someone with a bullet to the back of the head." Booth slowed as he approached the stoplight that was also the turn off towards the Ark Animal Sanctuary.

"We should get a soil sample," Brennan ventured.

Booth looked down the road. "We are supposed to be on a date you know."

"I know, but we are right here. And otherwise we are going to have to come back in the morning." Brennan pointed out.

The last thing Booth wanted was for a reason for them to get out of bed any earlier tomorrow then they absolutely had to, so he turned.

--

There were two cars in the lot when they pulled up. The headlights bounced first off a red Ford pickup and then a black Dodge. "The red one is the maintenance guy's." Booth said. He parked and turned off the lights. Brennan moved for the door, but Booth caught her arm. "Hold on." As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark he thought he could see another car around the house, but he wasn't sure. Maybe Mrs. Ramsay's family had come to stay with her.

"Let's be quick about this," Booth hissed. "We have reservations."

"I will be. It's just two little samples," she assured him.

As he got out of the truck in the dark, he automatically reached down to adjust his gun, which he then realized he wasn't wearing. He had hoped that a date with Bones wouldn't require being armed.

"I need my kit. Will you open the back?" Brennan requested, appearing at his side. He opened the back and while she rummaged through her bag, Booth's eyes fell on the gun locker. He found himself entering the combination and opening the lock; he wasn't about to go marching off unarmed into a dark field that could potentially be a crime scene.

"You'll think we'll need that?" She questioned as his picked up his weapon and checked the clip.

"Better to have it and not need it." He reasoned. After a moment offered her the .38 revolver she sometimes used.

"I don't really have a place for that," she said gesturing to her dress. Booth shrugged and slipped it into his pocket.

Holding several small containers, Brennan set off for the field behind the clinic. Her shoes made it difficult to walk and after several yards, she pulled them off and proceeded to carry them. Booth chuckled to himself; somehow he wasn't surprised that a date with Bones had taken this route. Suddenly, he thought he saw a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye. He turned in that direction and peered into the darkness, carefully to leave his flashlight pointing towards the ground, but saw nothing else.

Brennan touched his arm to get his attention. "Booth, you take a sample there," she said pointing across the field, "and I'll get one by the barn. That way we can get out of here quickly and get back to our date."

He shook his head. "I don't think so Bones."

"Why?" she demanded putting her hands on her hips. "I'm just trying to be quick like you requested."

Booth took a moment, wishing that for once she would just listen to him without demanding a well thought out rationalization. He didn't have a real reason; he just didn't think it was a good idea. Little hairs stood up on the back of his neck and he looked back towards where he thought he had seen the light.

"Cause we are sticking together, Bones, end of story," he said in a lowered voice.

"End of story?" she repeated incredulously. "Booth, I am perfectly capable of standing four hundred feet away from you and taking a soil sample. If this is some sort of couples thing-"

A shot pierced the night. Booth reacted instinctively, pulling Brennan to the ground, his arm heavy across her back holding her down. The bullet flew over their heads landing in the dirt behind them. His gun was in his hand in an instant, but before he could fire, two more blasts erupted from behind them. Bones was lying tensely beside him and when he turned to look, her eyes were wide with fear. There was more than one shooter, little coverage in the middle of a field and they were supposed to be a nice restaurant right now.

"Shit." Booth cursed keeping his head low.

--

Please review and let me know what you thought. And thanks to all who take the time to review!

I'll try to get this updated soon, but I'm going away this weekend for my birthday (I've got the make the most of the last two years of my 20's!!) I promise the next chapter will be worth the wait.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch6

Vacation's over, craptastic as it was. Seriously, what a waste of paid time off. Oh well, as my revenge I wrote part of this at work today. Which probably means I will probably have to work extra hard tomorrow, but it was worth it. As long as I didn't leave a copy of this in the printer …

Thanks to my sister for editing some of this for me. I don't know her cyber name, but I do know her fake bar-hopping name, so thanks Alana S!

There is some violence in this chapter, but again, nothing gratuitous.

--

An icy chill work its way down Booth's spine as the gravity of their situation sank in. What the hell had they blundered into? The three trucks entered his mind. Damn! He should have been more careful. Brennan shifted beside him and he slid his hand up her back. Pressing on her hair he whispered, "Don't move." She didn't respond, but he could feel her still.

Lifting his head slowly, Booth looked around, trying to get his bearings in the darkness. The moon gave off just enough light to reveal the outlines of the buildings, but not enough to reveal what was lurking deep in the shadows. He counted three shooters; two with semiautomatic handguns and one with a rifle. There were fifteen bullets in his clip and six in the revolver. His mind worked quickly, formulating a plan. It definitely wasn't an ideal situation, but one he felt sure he could handle. Though he found himself wanting to just hold Bones tightly and make sure she was safe. Despite her proficiency with firearms, her lack of tactical training and tendency to be recklessly aggressive worried him.

"Booth," she called next to him. Her whisper pierced the night.

"What?" he answered out of the corner of his mouth, not breaking his concentration.

"Gun," she said simply. Booth shook his head; he could feel her hand exploring his side, searching for his pocket.

"Wait," he hissed louder this time. A single shot rang out and she froze.

"Federal Agent," Booth yelled. "Hold your fire."

Two rapid fire shots were the only answer. "Fuck!" Brennan said as she flinched at his side. Booth returned fire with two shots of his own, hoping to buy them enough time to carry out his plan. Propping himself up on one elbow, Booth turned towards Brennan, who was still lying pressed flat to the ground.

"Ok, Bones, we gotta move, if we stay here, they'll just pick us off." He said as he slipped out of his jacket, glad he had worn the black shirt underneath. The shimmery material of Brennan's dress made her an easy target in the moonlight. She was quiet as she pulled it on and he thought he could see her shaking. "You ok?"

"Yes," she replied resolutely.

Booth wasn't so sure, but there was no time to question her. He nodded and pulled out his phone. Holding it under his hand to block the light, he called and tersely explained the circumstances and the need for backup. Though given their rather isolated location, Booth knew that he and Brennan couldn't afford to wait for help.

"We need some cover. I'm gonna go first," Booth explained. Glancing around, he pulled out the .38 and smeared some mud on the shiny barrel, hoping to dull its reflection. "Towards the shed," he nodded towards the corner of the building. An old trailer was parked adjacent to it and he figured it was their best chance. "There are three shooters, shots fired from there, there and there." Booth illustrated as he spoke. "You cover anything left and behind. I've got ahead and to the right. This light is tricky, but watch for the flash when they fire. Aim for that. You got all this?"

"Right, yes," Brennan said, brushing her hair out of her face. Booth thought she looked pale, but perhaps it was just the dim light. She was clutching the gun tightly in her right hand, and appeared determined.

"Ok then," Booth said softly. He reached out and stroked her cheek. "When I get there, you wait a minute and then follow. You only have six shots, so don't use more than four on me." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. Brennan reached up and squeezed his hand. Her heart was pounding so hard she didn't think she could speak. Booth slowly crept off.

Brennan couldn't stop her hand as it went to her side, nor was she surprised to feel a warm sticky substance. It was just a flesh wound, but she had never been shot before and she was concerned about the bleeding. She shook her head and tried to ignore the throbbing pain. Wiping the blood off on Booth's jacket, she curled both hands around the grip of the Smith & Wesson and concentrated on her assigned target areas.

The first shot from their unknown assailants came seconds after Booth exposed himself on the moonlit field. Brennan fired seconds before Booth, aiming at the flash of gunpowder. Three more shots followed almost simultaneously and she reacted automatically, squeezing the trigger with a surprisingly steady hand. A mental tally went off as she fired her fourth shot and she paused, watching in horror as Booth stumbled and dove for the protection of the building.

And then it was silent and she could hear nothing but her own rapid breathing. Booth had been hit, she was sure of it. After the fourth bullet when she had hesitated. Panic filled her and she looked futilely in his direction, but Booth was well hidden in shadows. Run. She knew she needed to run. Needed to get to Booth. The field equipment and shoes would have to be left behind. Struggling to her feet, Brennan tucked her head down and sprinted, momentarily unaware of the pain from her own wound.

A bullet whizzed behind her, burrowing harmlessly into the dirt. Relief swept though her when she heard the sharp report from Booth's gun as he returned fire. She ran hard, not slowing until she was almost on top of him.

"Whoa!" Booth braced himself as she landed against his chest.

"You're hit," she declared breathlessly.

"I'm fine, it's just my arm," Booth said brushing aside her concern. "You're limping."

"I stepped on something," Brennan lied, figuring he did not need anything else to worry about right now. A quick with her hand told her that the bleeding was slowing. She worried about Booth's arm, but it didn't seem to be bothering him.

The crack of a solitary shot broke through the night. Even as disoriented as she was right now, Brennan could tell it was not from the same location as earlier. Booth immediately sighted towards the sound, but didn't fire. "I think we have two shooters down," he whispered. "He might be running."

"What do we do now? What the hell is going on?" She stepped closer to him until they were touching, taking comfort in the warmth from his body. She felt so tense that she was ready to jump out of her skin. But there was a calm confidence about Booth. Things like this were probably common occurrences in the Army and she had no doubt that Booth was an excellent soldier.

"For now we wait," Booth said. "I don't want to take any chances with y-" his voice cracked and Booth trailed off. She knew the chink in his armor was because of her. The moment passed quickly and Booth's cool exterior returned. "And I don't know what we walked into," Booth said scanning the night. He couldn't see or hear anything. They had gotten two, he was sure, but the whereabouts of the third shooter worried him.

"So you think these are the people who killed Dr. Ramsay?" she questioned, flexing her fingers which were stiff from holding the gun so tightly.

Booth shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe the exotic animal stuff is still going on. I know Leon's truck was here. I don't know if he was involved. We could have interrupted a buy or delivery."

Suddenly they heard a car start and roar off. "Shit!" Booth exclamed. He jumped up as though to give chase, but thought better of it.

"He's getting away!" Brennan protested.

"I know," Booth said, "but we don't know if there is anyone else still out there. Backup should be here soon." He pulled his phone out, dialed, and spoke in hushed tones. "ETA is about eight minutes," he explained as he crammed his phone back into his pocket.

Brennan saw him wince as he moved. It was too dark where they were for her to properly examine his wounds and the flashlight was still out of the question. "Give me your tie," she ordered. Booth tried to undo the knot, but was having little success with a gun in one hand and a bullet in the other arm. Leaning over, she deftly untied the tie and slipped it over his head. Carefully, she traced her hands along his arm, trying to find the wound. Regardless of her efforts to be gentle, Booth cursed when her fingers crossed the wound. "Sorry," she whispered. Brennan tied the tie off above the wound, satisfied for now with her limited first aid.

Sitting back down on the ground next to him, she fought off a shiver. The night air was cool and a light breeze had picked up, carrying the fragrant scent of wildflowers across the field. Almost any other situation and she would have found the evening and setting enchanting; now it seem more like a landscape for nightmares. She tugged her dress down further over her legs, which she was surprised to realize were shaking. Hours ago she had been shopping. Finding the perfect dress seemed so important. Looking good for Booth seemed so important. Now her hair was a disheveled mess, the Chanel gown was dirty and torn and the six hundred dollar shoes abandoned in a muddy field. It all seemed so far removed.

Booth still sat silently, peering out into the night. Brennan was glad for his watchfulness. She hated to admit it, but she was definitely shaken. There had been a few life or death situations in her past, but this one had really upset her. Whether it was because it was so unexpected, because both she and Booth had been hurt, or because they were supposed to be on a damn date - she wasn't sure. Sliding even closer to him, Brennan mentally began to recite all the bones of the human body in alphabetical order to calm herself. Booth leaned over and kissed her hair. "Not long now, Bones," he said.

--

Later, they learned that it was only twenty-seven minutes between the time Booth had made the initial call until backup arrived, but for both it felt like hours. Brennan jumped up as soon as she heard the FBI vehicles rumble into the complex, but Booth reached out a hand to stop her. "Wait." He stood up next to her, but didn't release her arm. "The area isn't secure. If you go running out there you could get shot. They know our position, they will find us."

Several minutes later, light beams bounced of the field in front of them. One came around the corner focused on the two of them. Brennan jumped, even though that is what they had been waiting for. Booth exchanged several words with the agent and holstered his Glock. He put his arm on Brennan's and together they followed the heavily armed agent back towards the parking lot.

As soon as they were clear of the structures, they were swarmed by numerous people. Next to her, she could hear Booth explaining to a man in dark suit exactly what had happened, but it seemed far away. Her eyes darted around, trying to take in all the activity and stopping on an ambulance that was just pulling in. "Booth," she interrupted touching his arm. Both men looked startled at her words. They had been so intent on their conversation it appeared they forgot she was there.

Booth immediately felt guilty and put his arm around her again and pulled her closer. "What?" he asked softly. She gestured towards the ambulance and he nodded. Agent Thomas, to whom he had been speaking, followed her gaze and then looked at Booth's arm.

"Get that taken care of," he said gruffly, "and we'll talk when the sweep is complete."

Neither spoke as they walked towards the ambulances. Booth kept his arm around her shoulders, the resolve to keep their relationship a secret seemingly forgotten. "Bones," Booth said, stopping for a moment. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Booth. Let's get you to the paramedics." She tried to continue walking, but Booth held her in place.

"Temperance," he tried again. She shook her head and her eyes were bright with tears. This time when she headed for the paramedics, he followed.

--

"What about you, ma'am?" a young paramedic asked as he approached Brennan. She was clutching Booth's coat tightly around her while watching the medics examine his arm.

From the back of the ambulance Booth yelled something about her foot. The paramedic looked down at her stockinged feet and moved to examine them. Instead, Brennan crossed to the other ambulance. She slipped Booth's jacket off, holding it tightly as she exposed where the bullet had grazed her thigh. The wound was a little deeper than she thought, but still just a flesh wound. "Do you mind?" the kid asked, motioning for her to slide her dress up. As he cleaned and dressed the wound she watched a swat team member walk towards her with a ruined pair of Jimmy Choo's. He set them on the ground, gave her a brisk nod, and quickly trotted away.

"Well, you're going to need some stitches," the medic said apologetically. "We can get you to the hospital now."

"I'd like to ride with Agent Booth," Brennan declared as she put his jacket back on. "Thank you."

Booth was still sitting in the back with his shirt off. The medic was just wrapping thick gauze around his upper left arm. The same agent as earlier was in a heated conversation with Booth, which stopped abruptly as the young paramedic announced from behind her "Hey Cal, she needs some stitches on her leg and wants to ride in with him." He gestured towards Booth "You got them both?"

"Sure thing, kid. Thanks." Brennan crawled in and sat down next to Booth. The other agent said he would speak with Booth soon. Booth looked expectantly down at her foot, but looked up confused.

"I thought you needed stitches?" he asked confused.

Clearing her throat, Brennan said in a muted voice, "I do. A bullet grazed my leg here," she pointed to her upper thigh. Booth's face went white, but before he could speak the paramedics interrupted them as they prepared to leave. Just before the doors shut on the back of the ambulance, a black van with the word 'Coroner' in large white letters drove past. This time it was Brennan whose face drained of color. Booth took hold of her hand and held it tightly the entire way to the hospital.

--

Two hours later, the pair were reunited on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room of the St. Agnes Hospital emergency room. Booth exited an exam room and walked towards his partner, sitting silently next to her, leaving one chair between them. They'd barely spoke since the shootout, and Booth had no idea where to begin. He couldn't catch her eye. She was sitting straight up, staring blankly across the room, and still wearing his black dinner jacket over her dirty dress. "Bones," Booth said leaning forward, careful not to put too much weight on his arm.

"They said they got the bullet. It was a clean wound that should heal nicely," she said flatly, still not looking at him.

"Yeah, it didn't hurt the bone," Booth said with a small smile, before turning serious and adding, "they said you needed twenty-three stitches."

Brennan stayed silent. Booth ached to take her in his arms and hold her, but he could tell that right now she wanted her space.

"I'm sorry," she began in a small voice. "I hesitated after the fourth shot and you got hit. And it was my fault we were there in the first place."

"Don't," He said softly, moving to sit next to her. "Bones, none of this-"

"Agent Booth," a booming voice called from across the room. Booth looked up to see a very angry looking Cullen heading straight for them, with Cam behind rushing to keep up. Cullen stopped before them and studied them; taking in Brennan's appearance and Booth's black dress pants and blue scrub top. He shook his head and ordered in a strained voice, "Booth, come with me." Booth gave Brennan a quick look before following Cullen around the corner.

Arms crossed, Cam stood before Brennan, who kept her eyes glued to the ground.

"Do you think you are fucking James Bond?" Cullen yelled causing both women to turn in that direction. "You go out in a goddamn dinner jacket, with your partner all dolled up, and get into a shootout! What the fuck were you even doing out there tonight? You do realize you work for the FBI, don't you?"

Booth's response was unintelligible as the men stepped into an exam room. Cam cleared her throat. "Dr. Brennan, are you alright?"

"Yes, it is just a flesh wound," Brennan replied robotically.

Cam nodded and sat down next to her. "What were you and Booth doing at the animal clinic?" she asked.

"We realized that Dr. Ramsay could have been involved with selling illegal animals. His wife lied about the animal that cause the injury to the ulna, and the organic material Hodgins found could have been from food fed to these animals. I wanted to get a soil sample."

"And why did you and Booth respond in this … manner." Cam gave Brennan a quick once over.

"We were on a date." Brennan finally looked at her boss and was surprised to see compassion in her eyes.

"Brennan," Cam began delicately, "tonight I want you to go home and rest, but we are going to have to do something about this. This is your second shooting in under a year. That's tough for anyone." Brennan nodded numbly, wondering if they had confirmed yet that it was her bullet. Hers or Booth's. Did it really matter? A crushing feeling of guilt made it hard to breathe. "You won't be alone tonight, will you?"

"No," Brennan replied. "Thank you."

Cam stood up. "Call me in the morning; I should have more information then."

Brennan watched as her boss spoke with a woman at the reception desk and then left. Suddenly, she felt the need for fresh air. Looking back in the direction Booth had gone she wished for him to come back so that they could leave. Though remembering Cullen's angry words, she wasn't sure Booth would leave with her. Surely Cullen thought the shooting was all her fault. Who knows what he thought about the rest.

Standing up, Brennan wobbled a bit and could tell the painkillers were already taking effect. She dodged a young child weaving his way through the room and walked towards the door. "Bones," she heard Booth call from behind her. Hesitating, she looked back. Booth was coming towards her, Cullen behind him on the phone. Brennan turned and walked out the door, taking a deep breath as the cool night air revived her senses. A man was just paying his cab fare and she headed for the open car door. Turning just before climbing in, she saw Booth standing at the emergency room entrance, his arms out as if to ask where she was going. They stared at each other for a moment before she closed the door and the cab drove away, her eyes closed tightly so she wouldn't have to watch him recede into the distance.

--

As the cab pulled up to Angela's building, Brennan reached for her purse to pay the fare, only to realize it was still in the Suburban. Tears sprung into her eyes and she didn't bother to wipe them away, though she was slightly embarrassed that after everything that happened it was this small thing that finally broke her.

"I'm sorry … I don't have my purse," she said trying to hold the sobs in. "If you wait, I can, I can get money from my friend."

"Yea right, lady," the cab driver said with a tired sigh. Every time he picked someone up from the hospital something like this happened. Sure he had sympathy and all, but sympathy wouldn't feed his kids.

"No, I will," Brennan protested, "I'll pay extra. I'll be right back." As she hurried towards Angela's apartment she prayed that her friend was home. She didn't think she could convince the cab driver to go all the way to Hodgins' without any visible means of payment.

Angela opened her door moments after Brennan rang the bell. "Oh my god, sweetie! What happened?" she exclaimed taking in her friend's tearful and tattered appearance.

"I need some money for the cab," Brennan said sniffing. "I don't have my purse and …" She trailed off.

"Come in, come in." Angela put her arm around her and ushered Brennan in, worried her friend was about to collapse in the hallway. Angela turned to call for Jack, but he was already walking through the kitchen, wallet in hand.

"I'll take care of it," Hodgins said. He placed a hand on Brennan's shoulder as he passed. Angela could feel Brennan's strength waning and she guided her towards the couch.

"Oh Bren," Angela said. She held her friend tightly as Brennan began to sob.

--

"Where is she?" Booth asked the moment the door opened.

"Hey man," Hodgins said. He'd expected Booth to show up tonight, actually hoped he would, but Booth had taken long enough.

Booth paid Hodgins' friendly greeting no mind as he pushed through the door and stalked towards the living room. When he found it empty he turned back to Hodgins. "Where is Brennan?" Booth demanded in a steely voice.

--

Please review and let me know what you thought and thanks for reading!

Probably two or three more chapters and the next should be up this weekend. Brennan and Angela will talk. Booth and Hodgins will talk. Will Booth and Bones?


	7. Chapter 7

There is no excuse for how long this update took. Actually, I do have a few excuses and some of there are quite entertaining, but that isn't what you are here to read so ….

I want to give a **huge** thanks to astridv for editing this story and teaching me about dialogue tags and comma usage. Wait, did I need a comma in there somewhere? Seriously, I've learned a lot from you so far. Thanks!!

--

"She's here," Hodgins answered, studying him carefully. He was surprised by Booth's anger. "Where have you been?"

"Where have I been?" he repeated, his voice rising. "I've been dealing with all the shit that happened tonight." Surveying the apartment, Booth zeroed in on the closed door at the end of the hall.

"Hold on," said Hodgins, stepping in front of Booth. Though Booth stood much taller, he held his ground. "She's with Angela."

Booth glared at him, not about to be waylaid. "Yeah, well, I just want to get Bones and go home." He moved to go around Hodgins, but Hodgins put a hand on his chest to stop his advance.

"I'm not sure she is going to want to go with you, man," Hodgins said carefully. When Booth didn't back off, Hodgins continued, "Maybe if you had been here earlier. Man, she just sat there on the couch, wouldn't change her clothes or clean up. I think she was waiting for you."

Booth felt like his friend had punched him in the stomach. It wasn't a good thing that she had left him at the hospital, he knew that. But over the last few hours he had managed to convince himself that she was tired, upset and needed to get out of there. He knew how she felt; it was hard to imagine a worse first date for the two of them. The pounding in his skull intensified and he rubbed at his temples. If only Blackwell hadn't been informed of the situation; Cullen would've eventually calmed down and been far more understanding. Once Director Blackwell was on the scene, there was no chance of slipping away to chase after Bones. Booth had to convince him not to send an officer after Brennan and haul her back, though he was briefly tempted.

The expression on Booth's face softened slightly, but his voice was still harsh as he said, "You know, she's the one who left. I was standing right there, but she got into a cab instead." He focused his attention on the wall behind Hodgins and added quietly, "She didn't say a word."

The room was silent. Booth's chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths. Hodgins waited, knowing that somewhere inside, he was struggling with a decision. Booth gave one last glance towards the closed door, and collapsed onto the couch. A loud burst of air passed through his lips and he sighed deeply, releasing the anger. He lowered his head into his hands. How could he tell her?

--

Angela heard the muffled sounds of an angry male voice and figured that Booth had finally arrived. Glancing at the bathroom, where Brennan had finally consented to a shower, she briefly considered going out there and giving Booth a piece of her mind. However, she stayed put, realizing it might be best to give Jack some time to talk to him. Maybe calm him down a bit. Leaning back against her chair, Angela took a deep breath, hoping now that Booth was here, things would be better. Her friend's withdrawn demeanor worried her.

Once Brennan's outburst of sobs subsided, she'd turned to Angela and matter-of-factly explained the events that had transpired. After her sparse account, they sat quietly on the couch. Whatever Angela tried, be it comfort or further conversation, Brennan refused. Eventually, Angela gave up and retrieved her sketchbook. Before sitting back down, she spread a blanket across Brennan's lap, a gesture that elicited a quiet, "thank you." Angela began to draw, knowing better than to push any further right now. She definitely did not want Brennan to go storming out alone. Casting a furtive glance across the room, Angela caught Jack's eye. He was sitting on a chair in the corner leafing through a professional journal. His reassuring smile gave Angela strength.

The old clock in the corner chimed loudly as midnight came. "Ange, I would like to change if you have some clothes I could borrow," Brennan finally said. Angela jumped when she spoke, having settled into the thick silence.

"Sure, sweetie," Angela said, setting her sketchbook down. Taking her hand, Angela led her down the hall, Brennan following docilely.

--

The mirror's reflection caught her eye and Brennan turned, studying herself critically, expecting to see some sort of physical manifestation of the turmoil she was feeling. And she did. Her eyes were red rimmed from tears, and her complexion was quite pale. She rubbed at a spot of dirt the nurse had missed.

Carefully, she peeled the bandage back, revealing the angry red wound. All stitched up, the wound looked smaller, just a thin two-inch line; the plastic surgeon's stitches perfectly straight and even. He had assured her the scar would be barely visible. As if that mattered. As if she would be able to forget the sear of hot pain as the bullet cut through, or the sight of Booth diving and his body flinching as he was hit. And the man she had shot, well, she didn't have an image to accompany that. This time she would only remember the darkness. It made her feel both grateful and guilty.

The ruined dress lay on the floor by her feet, the right side stained red with her blood. Disgusted by the sight of it, she picked it up and crammed it into the trash can. She was about to throw her shoes in as well, and their condition probably warranted it, but she stopped. For whatever reason, she felt oddly attached to them. And, she reasoned, the swat team guy had gone to all the trouble of bringing them to her. So she slipped them on instead of throwing them away.

Maybe Booth isn't coming, Brennan thought suddenly. Not that she was actually waiting for him; she just expected him to be here. He could find her anywhere, if he wanted too, that is. She'd assumed she was already numb, but the thought of him not showing up made it harder to breathe. But then so did the thought of Booth standing in front of her. She couldn't help but feel that everything would have been different had they not been dating. Most likely they wouldn't have been out there in the first place, and if by chance they had been, they probably wouldn't have been so wrapped up in arguing that they abandoned caution.

There was no use dwelling on it now; it was too late to change anything.

Brennan finished dressing and checked her appearance carefully. It was time for her to go. She had fled to Angela's needing the compassion and understanding of her best friend, knowing that Angela would never judge her as harshly as she judged herself. Even Hodgins had been great, but they had done enough. Home, alone was where Brennan always ended up. Now she just had to convince Angela to actually let her go. She squared her shoulders and walked confidently out the door, only to be stopped dead by Angela's whispered warning.

"He's here."

"What?" Brennan whispered back, staring at the door as if she expected Booth to burst through at any moment. Of course, he would arrive the moment she decided she could leave without him.

"Aren't you going out there?" Angela asked.

Shaking her head, Brennan sat back down on the bed. She took great interest in the material on Angela's bedspread to avoid meeting her questioning gaze. Once again, she found it hard to breathe. Maybe I have a respiratory infection, she thought fleetingly.

"I left," She said simply.

"Left what?" Angela prompted.

"Left Booth. At the hospital."

"Sweetie, you were upset. I'm sure he understands." Angela looked towards the door. She no longer heard any sound coming from the other side.

"I should have been there professionally, if for no other reason. There will be questions and official statements to be submitted."

"And?" Angela knew that wasn't the only thing bothering Brennan.

"And," Brennan took a deep breath and looked up at her friend, "he thinks I'm going to leave, 'Freak out,' he calls it, and end our relationship. I can see it in his eyes sometimes."

Angela made a sympathetic face, but stayed quiet. In her opinion, Booth's fears were not entirely unfounded.

"I don't plan to, but sometimes I think Booth knows what I will do before I do. And tonight, I was just going out for some fresh air and next thing I know I'm practically running for a cab. Besides," Brennan continued miserably, "if Booth had a real partner he might not have gotten hurt in the first place."

"Now, Bren, you know that isn't true. You are probably better than most of the FBI agents and Booth knows it, or he would never take you out of the lab." Angela crossed the room and took her friend's hand, coaxing her to her feet. "And Booth is one of the best and you still got hurt. Now let's go, he is the one you should be telling all of this to."

Angela tugged, but her friend didn't follow. "I … I can't," Brennan stammered.

At her words, Angela pulled harder, "Yes, you can," she opened the door and dragged Brennan into the living room. Booth jumped off the couch the moment the door opened, but Angela continued before anyone else could speak. "Talk," she commanded. Booth and Brennan faced each other, several feet separating them. Neither spoke.

"Enough!" Angela threw her arms into the air after several minutes of silence. "You two have got to be the most stubborn and frustrating people I have ever met." Noticing their hurt looks, she added, "I know that you have been though hell tonight. You guys handle things that we know nothing about." Angela motioned towards Hodgins. "But luckily, you each have someone who knows exactly how you feel."

Booth and Brennan finally made eye contact with each other. But Angela wasn't done.

"I thought you two had finally acknowledged that you were perfect for each other. But no, instead you both feel like you aren't good enough. You, Booth," Angela said. His head snapped in her direction. "Your problem is guilt. I'm not sure if it is Catholic guilt, or a result of your past, but you need to get over it."

"And you," Brennan actually flinched as Angela turned her attention towards her. "Um … you have quite a few issues. So, we'll go with fear of abandonment. Not everyone is going to leave you. There are some of us that are pretty hard to get rid of."

Hodgins worked his way up behind his girlfriend who was so intent on her lecture that she didn't notice him. She jumped when he put his hand on her shoulder. "Angela," he said quietly, "I think you have made your point."

"Oh, right." She realized just what she had said. But she didn't apologize. In her opinion, it was good advice, if poorly delivered.

Clearing his throat, Hodgins moved around to Angela's side. He gave the couple a reassuring smile. "You'll get through this. Just go home, rest, and you know, maybe set some ground rules for mixing combat and formal wear."

Booth chuckled and saw Bones smile. The tension between them began to melt away. He held his hand out to her and nodded towards the front door. She hesitated for only a moment before placing her hand in his.

--

The awkward way Booth opened the passenger door for Brennan reminded her of his injury. She didn't sit in the passenger seat, but gently pushed him towards it instead.

"You shouldn't be driving with your arm."

"And you shouldn't be driving on pain killers," Booth countered.

"It's been hours, Booth. I am fine," Brennan insisted. Booth opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again at the look of steely determination in her eyes.

"I guess you're right," he said. "Thanks." The doctor had told Booth not to drive himself home from the hospital, but by the time he was allowed to leave, he was too single-minded in his focus to find Bones to heed the order.

Both were quiet as they climbed into the Suburban. Leaning over the back seat seat, Booth handed Brennan her small purse. She pulled her phone out and checked it automatically, but didn't register any of the calls. Then they drove in the general direction of their apartments. Brennan pulled up to the stoplight where she would have to turn towards one apartment or the other and waited for Booth to indicate a preference. When he didn't, she turned towards her own apartment.

Now that Booth was with alone with her, he felt a little better. She was unusually quiet however and he knew what was bothering her. Her right hand was laying on the armrest and Booth reached over and covered her hand with his, stilling her nervous twitching.

"I love you, Bones," Booth said, turning towards her to see her reaction. The street lights revealed a look of surprise on her face. "And you did the right thing tonight."

Brennan shook her head, "I was supposed to cover you and you got shot." She pulled her hand from under Booth's as she turned the corner.

Booth squeezed the armrest tightly. "How many shots did you fire?" he asked patiently.

"Four," she replied.

"And how many did I tell you to fire?"

"Four, but-"

"But nothing. Bones, what would have happened if you used all six shots and I had still been killed?" Booth asked bluntly and Brennan winced at the thought. "You never want to leave yourself exposed like that without a weapon. Survival is what is important." Booth finished doggedly as she parked in front of her building. He turned to her and smiled. "Your fire kept them from getting a clean shot at me."

She returned his smile, but it was weak. "What?" he asked.

"I don't understand how I can feel guilty because I killed one man and then feel guilty because I didn't kill the one who shot you," she admitted.

"I know, Temperance," Booth said sympathetically, "and there is no easy answer for that." He leaned across the seat and brushed her face. "I'm tired. Let's go upstairs."

He watched as she climbed slowly out of the seat, moving her sore right leg stiffly. It wasn't easy for him to stifle his powerful need to apologize profusely for allowing her to get hurt. Eventually he would, apologize for that, and for not being able to keep her from her second kill. For now though, it wouldn't do for him to confess his guilt while trying to alleviate hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind floated Angela's advice; not to let his guilt get in the way of their relationship.

As he came around the truck, Brennan was waiting for him, partially illuminated by the yellow glow of the streetlight. Once again, Booth was struck by how she could be both so strong and so vulnerable at the same time. She gave him a tentative smile and he felt his heart rate increase. When she left him at the hospital, scared and worried. But she had brought him here. Booth wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and they slowly made their way inside.

--

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked, putting down her purse. "I'm not hungry, but I could make something for you."

Booth was touched by her offer, but he wasn't hungry either. "No, I think I just need sleep." The fatigue that he had been fighting off was now crashing in. Brennan seemed to sense it and she crossed back to him.

"Then let's go to bed," she said, leading him into her bedroom. She changed quickly, happy to be out of Angela's ill fitting clothes and into her comfortable and familiar pajamas. Turning, she caught sight of Booth struggling to lift his shirt over his head. Brennan moved in front of him and slid her hands up his chest, carefully working the shirt up and over his wounded arm. Booth let it drop to the floor. She reached out and traced the edge of his bandage and found herself blinking back tears due to a surprising rush of affection.

"I love you too, Booth," she said softly.

Booth wrapped his arms around her and pulled her forward. Kissing her slowly before shifting and holding her tightly to him. He forgot about the throbbing in his bicep and his overwhelming fatigue, taking comfort from her words and closeness. Soon, he was going to have to tell her. He had promised himself he would do it tonight, but there was no way he could now. He wanted some time to savor the words he never thought he would hear her say.

Eventually she pulled away, fixing her tired eyes on Booth. "What is it?" she asked, startling him with her alert perception.

"Nothing." He lay back on the bed and motioned her to join him. "We better get some sleep. We are due at headquarters at eight."

A sigh escaped her lips. Tomorrow she would have to relieve the shootout over and over. Answering whatever questions the agents or the review board wanted.

"I know," Booth said, kissing the top of her head as she settled in next to him. "Tomorrow is going to be tough."

Ten minutes later, Booth's breathing had evened out, deep and slow. Brennan shifted, trying to find a position that didn't put too much weight on her hip. She lay in the dark, listening to Booth's regular breathing, and waited for sleep to come to her.

--

From her seat at the table, Brennan watched the early morning sun crept across the living room floor. She'd lain in bed for hours as Booth slept beside her, but her mind refused to rest. Instead of sleeping, she relieved each moment of the evening every time she closed her eyes. So she ended up at her kitchen table, waiting for the sun to rise.

Checking the line of sunlight, she decided she had better go back to bed. She didn't want Booth to wake up and think she had left again. It was too late; Booth was already awake. He reached out to feel the cold sheets next to him and knew she had been gone for a while. Stretching out his arms, he tried to clear the sleep from his mind. Today was going to be one hell of a day.

"Morning," Brennan said uncertainly from the doorway. Booth was going to ask if she had slept, but the dark skin under her eyes told him that she hadn't. He had hoped that she would be able to relax a bit once she got home. Obviously, that wasn't the case. "I was just …." Brennan trailed off as she tried to think of a lie.

"Not sleeping?" Booth supplied.

Brennan flushed and gave him a chagrined look. "I didn't want you to worry so I was going to sneak back in," she explained. "I'll go start some coffee."

Booth let her walk away, dreading the upcoming conversation.

--

"Bones, there is something we need to talk about," Booth said seriously, sitting down across from her. Her alert eyes were immediately on him.

"Director Blackwell got involved last night, with everything and," he began haltingly, "he had some … reservations about our relationship."

"Reservations?" she repeated.

Booth ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He might as well just say it. Bones wasn't one to pick up on subtleties. "Blackwell said that we could either continue to work together or continue to date. But not both."

Brennan stared at him as her mind took in the ultimatum. She had been so focused on the shootout that she had forgotten their relationship had been exposed. They had been so careful to keep it a secret and now, due to some ill-timed gunfire and fancy clothes, the secret was out.

"But that doesn't really matter, right?" she asked hopefully. "We will just be … discrete," she paused, searching for the right word.

Booth didn't answer right away. This was the part he had agonized over and, of course, Bones had gone there first. The thing was - she was right. It would be easy for them to continue their relationship in secret. It wasn't like they would be jumping each other at crime scenes. And they rarely saw any of the 'big' bosses, like Director Blackwell. But as much as he wanted to, Booth didn't think it was a good idea. He wanted to show her what a real relationship could be like. He wanted to show her that it was possible for them to make a life together. And he didn't want there to be any reason for her to feel bad or feel the need to hide it.

"I don't think so," he said, his eyes downcast. "We have to make a choice, Bones." The sudden anguish in her eyes was almost too much for him to bear. Booth knew what he was asking. Sully had given Brennan a similar choice, him or her work. Now he was asking her the same thing. It wasn't fair and he knew it.

"But-"

"We don't need to figure all this out right now," Booth interrupted gently, "but it will probably be mentioned this morning."

"Oh, right." Brennan said, shrinking back into the chair. "Of course."

It would be hard to go back to the way they were before, partners and friends only. But while it was difficult imagining her life without their newfound intimacy, it was impossible to imagine no longer working with him.

"Booth, what are we going to do?"

--

Please review and let me know what you thought.

Also, there will be one, perhaps two, more chapters to this story. And it won't take a month for the next one, I promise. Really, I do.


	8. Chapter 8

Here is the final chapter!

Once again I have a list of excuses including puppies, tattoos, grad school applications, old boyfriends, and too much time spent playing in the mountains. At least I can truthfully say this chapter is long awaited :-) I can also say it's very long. But if you've made it this far, the length shouldn't be a problem.

--

"_Booth, what are we going to do?"_

He had no answer for her. He tried to smile, but knew it was a pathetic attempt. The apartment was silent; they listened to the relentless ticks of the clock. It was a rare situation for the two of them, no answers and limited options. Whenever they faced such problems during an investigation, they went back to the evidence, to the bones, to the suspect. That wouldn't help here.

Standing up, Booth turned and walked away from the table. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep and he rubbed them hard in frustration. It was all just such bad timing. He could sense Brennan moving behind him. She stopped close, her chest barely brushing his back, and he could feel little puffs of warm breath on his neck. God, he really didn't want to lose her. He closed his eyes and remembered how her smooth skin felt below his fingertips, and the way she had touched him the other night... Booth shook his head, he needed to pull himself together; they both did.

In little more than an hour, they were expected at headquarters. There would be endless questions from a seemingly endless group of people in dark suits. It wouldn't matter that they'd been working for something like twenty straight days and seriously need some sleep. Booth's first priority right now was making sure they made it through the inquiry and debriefing. They were in the clear; it was a good shoot, he knew it. But it was still important for them to present the best evidence in a professional manner. Especially since their partnership was in question. And now that this case included possible international smuggling, there would be representative from over half-a-dozen agencies. Booth waited an extra moment before speaking; Bones was still standing close behind him. He was waiting for her touch, but it never came.

"Ok, Bones," Booth said, turning towards her. Taking a deep breath, he watched as she pulled her eyes up from the floor. They were watery and he knew it wouldn't take much to push the tears of her eyes. He needed to do something, at least change the subject; he wasn't sure how much more his partner could take in one twenty-four hour period.

"I don't know what we are going to do." He admitted.

"But…" Brennan started, but trailed off disheartened.

"It's ok. We have some time and we'll figure something out." Booth managed something resembling an actual smile. "With your brains and my resourcefulness."

"Right," she said, sounding as unconvinced as he felt.

"Exactly," he nodded, "and right now we need to focus on this investigation."

Booth reached out and squeezed her shoulder and she suddenly knew what he was doing. They had more immediate concerns than the state of their relationship. They needed to put on a good face for the upcoming meetings. One problem at a time, that's how she worked best anyways.

"You're right. I suppose we better get ready," Brennan offered, giving him a brave smile.

Exhaling deeply, Booth caught the new resolve in her features and knew she would be fine. He shouldn't have worried. He should have learned by now that it was never wise to doubt Temperance Brennan.

Dropping his hand, Booth said, "I gonna run home, shower, throw on a clean suit and then I'll be back to pick you up." He watched her carefully while he waited for her reply. She still stood as if frozen to the ground, and she hadn't responded when he touched her shoulder. He was afraid his news would cause whatever guards she had dropped around him to rebuild before his eyes.

Taking a step back, Brennan agreed, "That's a plan then."

"See you in about," Booth consulted his watch, "forty minutes."

Neither of them made a move.

"Forty minutes, ok," she confirmed after several moments of awkward silence.

"I guess I'll go." Booth flashed a shaky grin as he headed for the front door. Once again, Brennan followed behind him. And again he waited an extra moment for her to reach out for him, but she didn't.

Keeping his back to her, he opened the door and was halfway through before she said, "Booth." When he turned, she moved closer, leaning in and kissing him thoroughly on the lips. Her hands resting on his shoulders, she asked, "That's still … allowed, for now, right?"

Before Booth could work enough moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth to answer, she stepped back, hands clasped behind her. "Yes," he said emphatically, both surprised and pleased by her gesture. "And lock this door," he added gruffly. "One of these guys is still out there he could know who we are."

As he walked away from her door, he made a promise to figure out some way to fix this situation.

--

"Stupid!" Brennan admonished herself, bolting the lock on her door. "We didn't even make it a week."

With heavy legs, she walked to her living room and sank down in the chair. She needed to get ready, but she couldn't bring herself to move. The tears in her eyes spilled silently over and dripped down her face. Annoyed, she brushed them away and commanded herself to stop crying. But it felt like the weight of the last few days was crashing down on her down on her; stirring up old feelings.

She had learned relatively young, that she couldn't depend on anyone but herself. No matter how much people say they love you, they leave. Sometimes it is their choice and sometimes it isn't. For years, she had thought that her parents had no choice; that Russ was the only one who had decided to leave her. Now she knew differently; her parents had left in hopes that their absence would keep their children alive. Brennan wondered how much it would have changed things all those years ago, if she knew why they were leaving.

What frightened her most was emotional intimacy. The thought of letting herself fall in love and building a life with someone terrified her. Because in her mind, they would always leave, it would always end badly. Opening herself to love also meant opening herself to pain. So she lived her life and managed her relationships accordingly, trying to protect herself. Her relationships with men always focused on the physical rather than the emotional. There were times she was occasionally lonely, but at least she felt safe and secure.

Then she met Booth. She couldn't deny that when she had first met him, she had considered one of those physically based relationships. However, when they had started working together more frequently, she forced the idea from her mind. Brennan prided herself on learning from any mistakes, and she had leaned with Michael that mixing personal and professional was indeed a mistake. That was reason enough to ignore the powerful attraction to her partner. No need to study it any further.

Looking back, Brennan smiled ruefully at the irony. With the physical out of the question, and the powerful attraction stronger growing stronger each day, they had instead embarked upon the emotional journey she'd worked so diligently to avoid. Gradually over the past two years, Booth had become the most important personal in her world; the one with whom she shared almost everything. All before they had even kissed. She had even voiced the three words she never thought she would feel. And now she had to choose. What scared her now was that it might be too late to go back.

"Stupid," she admonished aloud again before standing up and heading for her room.

--

The early morning sun was already shining relentlessly down when Booth pulled up to her curb. Brennan pushed the hair out of her face and slowly climbed inside. She gave Booth a warm smile and was pleased to see he looked better than he had when he'd left. A shower, a shave, and a fresh suit could do wonders for a man. Especially a man as good looking as her partner. His hair was still wet, his face fresh and smooth from the recent shave. He leaned over and kissed her, bringing with him the spicy sent of aftershave, and causing a flutter of nerves to erupt in her stomach. She didn't want to choose; she couldn't.

"You look like a new man," Brennan said, fingering the corner of his dark jacket.

Booth wished he could say the same for his partner. She had freshened up, but the dark circles under her eyes peeked through the makeup. "Thanks," Booth said as he negotiated the morning traffic.

Small snippets of unimportant conversation were exchanged, but it was obvious there was one issue they were avoiding. Finally, Brennan couldn't take it any longer.

"I still don't see why we can't just be discreet," she offered bluntly. "Then we can keep everything like it is."

Sighing, Booth took a moment before he answered. Each time he defended this position he inched closer to agreeing to it. "First of all, it's not just being discreet, not anymore. Now it would be lying. We would lie to the face of a director in the FBI."

Brennan bit her bottom lip and waited for the rest.

"And second of all, do you really want that? Driving miles out of the way, like we did last night? Always looking over our shoulders when we go out, worrying about getting caught?" He stopped and shook his head.

"Well, what then?" she questioned. "We quit working together. I work with someone new and you are reassigned?" Booth actually winced at the thought of her working with someone new. "How is that any better?" Brennan continued. "What about the people we help, the cases we solve. Booth, we solve murders no one else can."

Rolling down the window for a blast of fresh air, Booth turned into the parking lot of the Hoover Building. He knew Brennan was waiting for an answer, waiting to spar with him. Winning an argument against her was tough enough when he believed what he was fighting for, but his heart wasn't in this.

It surprised him that she hadn't already bolted for the safety of her work. It was a perfect chance to end the relationship right then and there, but she hadn't taken it. He'd spent the last few days convinced she would end it at any moment. Instead, she was proposing, for the second time, a secret affair. Even now, he could tell that she was genuinely torn trying to decide between him and their work. For him it wasn't so much about the cases, it's true that they found answers no one else could, but he could make a difference elsewhere in the FBI. And Bones could pick and choose her professional path. Truthfully, he would rather have her in his life, to be able to hold her at night and kiss her in the morning. But he never wanted her to feel she had given something up, or settled in anyway, to be with him.

Shifting into park, Booth said with renewed determination, "I know, Bones. I'm going to figure something out." She stayed silent, but her eyes were hopeful.

--

Unconsciously straightening his tie, Booth entered the FBI building just ahead of his partner, his long legs covering the ground quickly. They had only ten minutes to pick up the remaining files from his office and report to the fourth floor conference rooms. Nerves caused his heart to beat rapidly. He wasn't worried about the review of evidence; he and Brennan had done nothing wrong and were lucky to have escaped. They should not have been there while on a date, which is why he was worried.

"Hi," Booth said as the elevator opened, excited to see the older agent inside.

"Morning," he said. "How are you two holding up?"

"Just a little sore," Brennan replied, eyeing him curiously.

"I'm sorry," Booth said, realized an introduction was in order. "Dr. Temperance Brennan." He pointed to her. "This is Agent Baker. He's the lead on the Ramsay case now."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Not my call," he said.

"I know." Booth said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Baker was a good agent, and it was bureau policy, but it still hurt to lose the investigation. When he started something, he liked to see it through.

"Listen, we found some interesting things out there already. You still wanna know?"

"Definitely."

The elevator stopped before Agent Baker could continue. They stepped out onto the fourth floor. Booth nodded to a little alcove to the right. "So, there were those trucks around the front, by where you were parked."

"Yes. Two. A black Dodge and a red Ford. The Ford belongs to Leon Baca, a maintenance worker. There may have been another car around the side, I couldn't tell."

Baker nodded. "That Leon guy and the Ford were long gone by the time our agents got out there."

"He got away," Booth said, trying to ignore the guilt.

Looking up the hallway, then down at his watch, Baker said, "Around the other side of the barn there is a dirt road. We found tire tracks that stop about a half-mile out, looked fresh. Also found two distinct footprints south of the barn, where you reported the gunfire from, right?"

"Yeah."

"We found one of the bodies up there. Figure they were running for the truck when he got hit. Forensics is still working on it, but it looks like a big truck, dually, maybe a box truck."

"Have they identified the bodies yet?" Brennan interrupted.

"Just got the info," he waved a handful of paper, "that's the first thing I am going to report on." Baker looked down the hallway where a collection of men in suits was gathering. "One guy was from South Africa, known animal smuggler. We think the other guy is Brazilian, but nothing other than that." Baker paused with a questioning look on his face. "You had the nine, right?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes," Booth confirmed.

"You got the Brazilian, then."

Booth nodded grimly. He knew Brennan wanted to ask more questions, but Booth quieted her with a look. Now wasn't the time. He reached out for Brennan and started down the hallway. Baker slowed and fell instep beside them. "There was also about twelve-thousand dollars in the barn and a few crumpled hundreds on the ground from the barn to the parking lot."

"Right, thanks," Booth whispered as they approached the conference room.

--

Director Blackwell watched Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan closely as the morning progressed. He had not seen the young pair in action before, but he had heard of them. He listened to their account, and since it matched what Booth had already told him, he let his mind wander. There was no denying that Dr. Brennan was a beautiful woman; he had to give Booth credit there. There was also no denying the deep connection between the two. He watched with interest as they effortlessly finished each other's thoughts; such a smooth back and forth as they each narrated their section of events. He had been married twenty years and he and his wife had yet to develop this level of symbiosis.

"Director Blackwell?" a voice questioned. He cleared his throat and looked at the deputy director. "You had another issue to address?"

Blackwell didn't reply right away. Looking over at the pair on the other side of the table, he was suddenly unsure. He'd been planning to reveal the two investigators' relationship as a potential liability to the case, but now he wasn't certain. "Another time gentleman."

"Well then," the man at the head of the table stood up. "If there are no further questions, I think we are done here."

Blackwell breathed a sigh of relief at the few seconds of silence that followed. There was still a lot of work on the case, but the last five hours had been grueling and his involvement was almost over. His agent had acted appropriately and there would be no disciplinary measures taken. He was almost out of the room when he was stopped by an ATF agent.

"Just wanted to say I've worked with these guys before," the ATF agent nodded towards Brennan and Booth. "They are good. I would work with them again anytime."

Blackwell clapped him on the back and said, "Thanks for coming. Have a good afternoon."

--

It was just past one when Booth and Brennan were finally released from the conference room and she was exhausted. The agents had been extra thorough on this case and each question had been asked and asked again. Brennan now had a better understanding of the dogged persistence agents like Booth needed when questioning a suspect. As far as what happened now, she didn't know. Booth had to take a mandatory three days off while on administrative leave. The Jeffersonian, however, had no policy for when their employees were involved in a work related shootout. Cam had joked lamely that it might be time to write one when they spoke. Cam had informed her she was to resume working when Booth did. She had also added that Brennan had her support and the support of the staff. Brennan felt much relieved by Cam's attitude about the shooting and her relationship with Booth.

Stretching her neck from side to side, Brennan let out a deep sigh.

"So, do you feel debriefed?" Booth asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

She gave him a tired smile in reply. As they started walking, Booth noticed Director Blackwell leaving the conference room.

"Sir," Booth said as Blackwell walked past. Blackwell acknowledged him with a look, but didn't break stride. Booth hurried to catch up, leaving Brennan with a pleading look and a 'stay' gesture.

"Agent Booth," he pronounced as Booth stepped in front to stop him.

Booth stared for a second, unsure exactly what to say. "Yes. Sir, I …."

"I assume you have made a decision." Blackwell stated flatly, cutting him off.

"Well," Booth rubbed his hands together, "not … exactly." Several agents came around the corner, interrupting the two. Blackwell nodded to an empty office and Booth followed him gratefully inside. There was no way for Booth to know exactly who was involved with Blackwell's ultimatum, but the fact he didn't want to discuss the issue publicly was heartening. "Sir, I think you need to reconsider regarding, you know, me and Dr. Brennan.

"And why would that be." Blackwell cross his arms and stared Booth down.

At that moment, Booth's mind went horribly blank. "Well," he began, regrouping, "Dr. Brennan doesn't work for the FBI, so technically we aren't violating and rules or code." Blackwell only nodded, so Booth continued. "And we are a good team, sir. No, a great team! You know, we solve stuff no one else can."

"And?" Blackwell prompted.

"And I love her." Booth said simply.

Blackwell studied him for several long moments. "I see," he said at last. "So this time it is love. Love you are now willing to jeopardize your career for, correct?"

"Yes," Booth answered his voice tight.

"And last time it wasn't this kind of love." Blackwell prompted.

Unsure of where the question was heading, Booth asked, "Sir?"

"Dr. Saroyan. Your partners' boss. I believe you were recently involved in a sexual relationship with her as well, were you not?"

Booth groaned inwardly when he heard Cam's name. Dammit! How did Blackwell know? While they hadn't tried outright to hide their relationship, they had kept it quiet. He didn't think the FBI knew.

"Agent Booth?" Blackwell asked, a note of impatience creeping into his voice.

"Yes, Dr. Saroyan and I had a relationship last year. And no, it's not the same."

"Let me guess, one is a pathologist and one is an anthropologist," Blackwell said dryly, smiling at his own wit.

Ignoring him, Booth said, "Dr. Saroyan and I had a relationship prior to her employment with the Jeffersonian that we resumed, briefly."

Checking his watch, Blackwell didn't wait for an answer. "I am not convinced Agent Booth. You're right, there is a bit of a grey area since Dr. Brennan is not an FBI employee, but I haven't seen any proof this situation warrants special treatment."

Booth opening his mouth to protest, but Blackwell waved it off. "All I see," he said in a low voice, "is a man who can't keep it in his pants as work. You're asking for special treatment, I gave you a choice."

Blackwell walked towards the door. Before leaving he turned and added, "If I don't hear from you tomorrow morning at ten am, Agent Booth, you no longer have a choice."

--

"Booth," Brennan said, startling him and causing him to drop his heavily loaded chopsticks. He grabbed the lemon chicken off the table, throwing it in his mouth before looking at Brennan.

"You aren't listening, are you," she said.

He immediately felt guilty. She was saying something about a skeleton in India, or maybe Indonesia. "Sorry, that might be too much technical stuff for my tired brain," he said, hoping to cover.

She opened her mouth as if to lecture him, but changed her mind. "I don't even know what I am babbling about." Standing up, she cleared her dishes from the table. After a few hasty bites, Booth joined her in the kitchen, dropping the empty cartons and chopsticks in the trash.

"I'll do the dishes anytime we eat Chinese," Booth grabbed her carton and valiantly through it in the garbage can as well.

"I do usually use plates, you know."

"Yeah, but this way is better."

Brennan rolled her eyes and Booth wandered into the living room. He turned on his tv, flipping to the baseball game. Brennan followed a few minutes later and sat down next to him on the couch. "So what do you think about the Ramsay case?" she asked.

"It was definitely a lot bigger than either of us thought. We are just lucky those guys didn't have assault rifles."

"I thought they said that guy from South Africa was just a mid level player."

"Yeah, but we are talking about a mid-level player on the international scene."

"It feels like we failed somehow," Brennan said dejectedly.

"We definitely discovered something huge," Booth pointed out.

"But we still don't know who murdered Ramsay. It could have been one of the men we … shot, or it could be someone else entirely."

"We will figure it out," Booth insisted. "Baker is going to keep me informed about the case, which there are now like four agencies fighting over."

"I just don't want his murder get lost in the bigger picture."

Booth smiled fondly, reminded of her focus on each case. "We won't let them. You told Anne that her husband was killed. At least she knows that he didn't leave her; he was murdered. And now, thanks to us, people are looking for his killer. We gave them good, solid evidence. They have one known suspect, and from what I saw of Leon, I doubt he can outsmart anyone for too long."

Brennan's head dropped onto his shoulder and she stifled a yawn. "I guess you are right. Baker will call if they find him?"

"Yes," Booth reassured her for probably the fourth time. For the moment, she was satisfied with his answer.

--

Not quite an hour later, Brennan stood up, yawned deeply, and declared that she was going to bed. It was not even ten, but it sounded like a good idea to Booth as well. He was pretty sure she had fallen asleep for at least twenty minutes around the eighth inning. Booth followed her into his bedroom, still not quite used to that sight of her there.

"Oww!" Brennan exclaimed as she tripped on a shoe in the near darkness and almost fell. She put her hand to her side and sat down slowly on the bed.

"Are you ok?" Booth asked concerned.

She shook her head stubbornly. "I'm fine." As if to illustrate her point, she crawled back to the head of the bed and slid under the covers. Booth carefully undressed and joined her. He moved next to her and took several deep breaths, enjoying the moment. He couldn't remember the last time a full nights sleep had been so appealing. But there was one thing he had to settle first, as much as he hated to bring it up.

"Bones," he said thoughtfully, "I have to meet with Blackwell tomorrow." He felt Brennan stiffen at his side. "I think there is a good change that I can convince him to back off," Booth took deep breath before continuing, "but if I can't, what is you answer?"

"It isn't just my decision," she responded immediately, "this will affect your life too."

Carefully, Booth stretched his arms out over his head and then wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. "I want you, Bones. Anyway I can have you."

Tracing her finger along his chest, she asked, "Can I tell you in the morning?"

He picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her fingers. "Mmm-hmm." He mumbled.

Bones shifted below him and Booth kissed his way up her arm towards her mouth, detouring briefly at her neck. Booth moved, trying for a better angle and was rewarded with a shooting pain from his arm. "Damn!" he whispered. She reached up and pulled him down, transferring some of his weight to her left side.

""It's a good thing we didn't get shot on the same side," she mumbled between kisses.

It didn't seem fair that tonight, which could be their last night together, they were both hampered by injuries. He couldn't even get lift his arm high enough to get her shirt off, but when she pulled it off herself, revealing nothing on underneath, he decided it wasn't such a bad thing. Booth's kisses were slow and deliberate, his hand sliding across her body, eliciting the occasional gasp or moan. Soon he could feel her hands on him, sliding down his sides. When her warm hands found their target, he groaned and decided he'd had enough of this slow pace. But when he shifted over her, he put too much weight on his arm and again felt pain.

"Relax," she purred into his ear as he breathed heavily.

"You know I have no patience," he said, resuming his kisses. He trailed his hand down her body again, stopping when he felt the bandage on her right side. "I don't want to hurt you," Booth said, concerned about her hip.

"Just go slow," she whispered, sliding her hands around his back and pulling him closer.

--

It was almost time for Booth to leave for his meeting with Blackwell and he needed Brennan's answer now. The morning had been pleasant. They slept in, cooked breakfast together and read the newspaper while they ate. Booth struggled into his jacket, his arm still not allowing him his full range of motion. Brennan stepped towards him and helped, brushing out the sleeves when she was done. He looked at her expectantly.

"Booth," she said, her voice shaky. "If you can't convince Blackwell … then I choose this, you."

Her face showed no joy at her announcement and Booth's heart felt suddenly heavy. He still couldn't believe they had been put in such a difficult situation. Brushing the hair of out of eyes, he kissed her, a long slow kiss. When he pulled back, there was a little more color in her face.

"I'll be back, Bones. It shouldn't take too long."

"Good luck," she said earnestly, and he walked out the door. Brennan looked around his living room, hating her helplessness. All she could do now was wait. Walking back into the kitchen to begin cleaning up, she caught herself saying a praying that Booth was successful. As she cleaned, she puzzled over just which god she thought she was appealing too.

--

Director Blackwell didn't stand when Booth entered his office. He remained seated behind the large and imposing desk. Booth walked in and sat down in front of him, forcing himself to take a deep, steadying breath. This was important and he needed a better effort than yesterday.

"Agent Booth," Blackwell said formally, "have you made a decision?"

"Yes, sir," Booth said. He thought of Bones waiting nervously back at his apartment, of their first night together at the Vacation Inn, of her choice this morning and felt more confident. He had to change Blackwell's mind.

"What is your choice?" Blackwell asked curiously.

Clearing his throat, Booth began, "I don't feel that I have been given a choice, sir." Blackwell's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't interrupt. "I have to ask the woman I love, a woman whose profession has been her entire life, to choose between us and our work."

"Certainly Dr. Brennan could continue to consult on cases with the FBI." Blackwell interjected.

"But would she be out in the field? Would she be assigned another partner, like me?" Booth questioned.

"Probably not." Blackwell said after a moment of consideration. "It appears you two do indeed have your own special rules."

"Because we are worth it," Booth replied before he could think it through.

Blackwell was amused by his answer, though he kept his expression stern, "Please explain."

Standing up, Booth launched into a passionate defense of their partnership. "First, as I am sure you are away, our closed case and conviction rates are extremely high. If were we a recognized partnership, we would have compete for the top honor this year. Plus throughout our work these last several years, Dr. Brennan and her team have developed several new processes in various aspects of forensics. And it is more that just that. We make each other better investigators. When I am able to pull Bones of the lab and her own mind, and force her to see the larger picture, she contributes amazing insights into the case beyond her forensic evidence. And she, well, she keeps me grounded. Keeps me from getting too angry or too excited and makes me questions things I would normally assume. I mean," Booth struggled with what to say next, "we're a _team_."

The expression on Blackwell's face still didn't change. The more time he spent with Agent Booth, the more he found himself liking him, but he couldn't let that effect his decision. "I am aware of your successful record, which is why I gave you the choice to continue."

Booth swallowed hard, unable to read the veteran agent. "She gave me her answer this morning. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said she would choose me." Booth said, hoping Bones wouldn't mind if he stretched the truth just a bit. "And they weren't tears of happiness."

Standing up, Blackwell turned and looked out his window. Booth's optimism was beginning to fade and he decided to go for broke.

"So now I give you a choice." Blackwell's head quickly turned to Booth, but Booth continued, "Either our current partnership is left in tact, or I will resign from the FBI."

The director's expression finally changed; he looked surprise. Blackwell was secretly impressed that the young agent had challenged him. However, it did present a bit of a problem. He knew Seeley Booth was a decorated agent and soldier, respected by all who work with him. He also knew that some in the bureau enjoyed the high profile convictions Booth and Brennan secured. But mainly he knew that the man standing before him was a good man; the kind the FBI couldn't afford to lose.

Turning back to the window Blackwell rubbed his temples. He really hated backing down from a decision. But perhaps he had made this decision to quickly, without putting in the necessary research. They were a unique team who got results. He had known very little about either of them before this incident, and was impressed by what he found. Or perhaps he really was softening in his old age, as his wife like to point out.

"Agent Booth," he said harshly. Booth jumped to attention and just managed to stop himself before he automatically saluted. "I will allow you and Dr. Brennan to continue your partnership. However," he said as the smile started to break across Booth's face, "I do not want anymore scenes like the other night. Keep a clear line between your personal and professional lives. I will not let you embarrass the FBI. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course, sir." Booth was so relieve he could barely get the words out. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me, Agent Booth. There will be severe consequences if any of these criteria are not met." Blackwell watched as Booth was unable to contain him smile any longer. "You may resume your normal duties after the three day period." He nodded curtly to Booth to let him know the meeting was over.

"Yes, sir." Booth said.

As Booth walked towards the door, Blackwell could feel a smile crossing his face as well. The agent's happiness was slowly spreading.

"Agent Booth," he called before Booth was completely out of his office. Booth turned back warily. "She looked tired this morning. As do you," he added, examining Booth carefully, "get some rest."

"We will, sir."

Blackwell sat back down at his desk, still unsure as to whether he had made the right decision or not. Regardless, it was one he definitely wouldn't tell his wife about, or he would run the risk of proving her right.

--

Brennan ran to meet Booth as he entered the building. She must have been watching for him to pull up. He had decided not to call first, but to deliver the good new in person. His mouth spread into a wide grin as he saw her rushing towards him and he knew she read the answer in his face. "I told you I could change his mind," he said smugly. He didn't have time to add anything else before Bones was in his arms, kissing him.

"So it's ok?" she asked breathlessly as she pulled away. "We can still work together and … do this," she kissed him again.

"Yup," Booth announced happily. "As soon as I'm done with my mandatory leave."

"But what are we going to do without work for the next two days?" She asked.

Booth laughed at the concern in her voice. "Well we have enough time. If we work at it, we just might be able to finish our first date."

She smiled. "No guns this time, or mud, or hospitals" she insisted.

"No way," he said with a chuckle, "just you and me." Booth said. He slipped his uninjured arm around her waist and together they head back up to his apartment.

--

The end.

Please review I'd love to know what you thought. (I'd love to get to the 100 review mark)

Thanks to everyone for reading! I've enjoyed this story and I hope you have too.

And as you could tell from my suddenly erratic updating, I've been busy this summer. So I probably won't start another long fic yet, but I've got some good ideas. I'm going to work on extending my challenge fic / ghost story South of Santa Fe. I probably should leave well enough alone since the story actually won, but I'm feeling a little ghosty.

--


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